The Other Side of the Coin
by storyteller0318
Summary: This story begins in Season 6, Episode 13: what would have happened if Tara didn't die, but Gemma did? Either way, poor Eli is dead, and Jax and Tara are left to piece together the last moments of his mother's life. The question: who killed Gemma and Eli? What would've happened if Fate had played a different hand?
1. Chapter 1

Blood was splattered across the wall. Tara Knowles-Teller sat in the corner of her kitchen, emptily gazing out at the puddles of carnage that remained. Shock flooded her being. She still couldn't believe what had happened. Just a couple of hours ago, she'd been in Jax's arms. Now, she didn't know what the fuck to do.

"I can't let you go, Jax." They were sprawled naked together in the hotel room she'd just shared with the boys. They were in the capable hands of Bobby and Chibs, and even though SAMCRO was the beginning and end of everything she loved, she knew they'd die protecting her boys. Sheets haphazardly covered their naked bodies. She couldn't tell if she was clinging to him, or he was clinging to her. Maybe they were clinging to one another, praying for a miracle, even though they knew miracles didn't happen in Charming.

"You have to Tara. You have to let me go. For our boys and for yourself. I cannot bring you down. I cannot let our boys have this life. Not anymore." He gently kissed each knuckle on her hand. She looked up at him. _God, I love this man. I love him so much._ For a moment, she wanted nothing more than to be his Old Lady. _That's what broke my heart in the first place. _

"We don't have much time, Jax." It was the truth. The DA wanted him to turn himself before night's end. He still had to see Thomas and Abel. He still needed to say goodbye to SAMCRO. As much as she wanted to be selfish, she knew that, above all else, Jax was a man of honor. The months since Pamela Toric's murder had caused him to lose himself, but her husband's moral compass was right and whole again.

"I know." He bent to kiss her, and an electric fire lit within her belly. She needed him one more time. Her hands twined in his hair. His mouth kissed her slowly, stoking the flames. His mouth was liquid heat on the soft column of her throat as it moved to her breasts. She cried out with each touch, and she pulled his head back up and locked mouths once more.

He slid inside her easily. With Tara, it never took effort, even when they hated one another. He always longed to touch her, to love her, to explore the body he knew, inside and out, all over again. The time apart had been hell, and he knew that, if the DA got what she wanted, he'd have precious few moments like this anytime soon.

"Jackson, I love you." Her eyes met his, and he smiled a wicked grin.

"I love you Tara. More. Than. Anything." His hips found a wonderful, comfortable rhythm. She knew it well, and she wrapped her legs around his waist. After all this time, she still couldn't get enough. Her nails dug into his back as she climaxed, and he allowed himself the release he'd needed for so long. Tears streamed down their faces and mingled together as they kissed. At that moment, they were all that mattered. Their love was all that mattered.

A knock on the door startled them both.

"Uh, Jax…Tara…we should probably get going soon." Eli Roosevelt's voice penetrated the thin hotel room door. Wordlessly, Jax stood. Tara watched as he walked over to the bathroom. He turned and faced her. The anguish was palpable. Tara sobbed, but she caught herself.

"I'm getting a quick shower, Babe." She nodded. She sat up and covered herself with a sheet as she swung her legs over the bed and stood. Visions of their wedding day played in his head. His mind's eye reminded him of the moments that would be all but lost to him, once he was in prison. _She is so worth it. _He turned and went in the bathroom to cry in peace. She slowly pulled her clothes on, knowing her life would be drastically different once he left her.

Within half an hour, they stood outside Roosevelt's cop car. He was clean and shiny in his kutte, and she longed to wake from the nightmare she was living. Roosevelt stood quietly, his soul aching as he watched Jax and Tara say their goodbyes. _I never got a goodbye, _he thought bitterly. The loss of his wife and child still cut him to pieces. It never got better.

"I have to go see the boys," Jax murmured in her ear. She nodded.

"Yes you do. All of them." It was Jax's turn to nod.

"I'll take you home, Tara," Eli said quietly. Tara stepped away from him and let him walk towards his bike. The kutte almost sparkled in the late afternoon sun. He looked like a god as he walked from her.

"Teller!" she cried into the vast emptiness. He turned and grinned beautifully.

"I love you too, Tara," he replied. _She looks like a goddamned angel. _She turned away. She couldn't watch him go. The sound of the bike starting jolted her to life again, and she wanted to cry with the sound. They said they would meet later at the house, and he would turn himself in to the DA. She prayed he'd keep his word, even though she knew she didn't have to. Jax would keep his word.

Eli was taking her home. She stared at the landmarks of Charming as they passed. They passed Burosky's bakery. The school they'd met at so long ago. The intersection that changed Opie's life forever. _Donna. Oh God, I miss you._ They passed Teller-Morrow, in all its destroyed glory. Goosebumps pricked her skin as they rolled by. Gemma's house was down the road.

It seemed like an eternity before they arrived home. Tara thanked Eli as he parked the car. He nodded. He liked the good doctor. He did. She was a good woman.  
Tara breezed past Unser's truck as she walked in the house. It was quiet. She stood looking across the living room, letting memories carry her to better times. She smiled for the first time in ages. _Jax loved her. Jax loved his boys. He's doing right by us, and that's all that matters._

A noise caught her attention. She peered around the corner.

"Wayne, is that you?" Her eyes widened as she saw who really had driven to her home.

_Gemma. _Tara stared at Jax's mother, and like the proverbial deer caught in headlights, she froze. Gemma's dark eyes were wild and crazed. She stumbled only slightly, and Tara suddenly realized she was drunk or high, or both. There was no warning. Gemma lunged after Tara, iron in hand. The older woman caught Tara. Somehow, she'd managed to grab an iron. Gemma slammed the iron into Tara's stomach. _Payback is a bitch, Tara. _

What Gemma didn't plan for was Tara's fingers gripping the iron and tearing it from her. Tara clocked Gemma in the face, and she screamed.

"You fucking bitch!" Gemma and Tara struggled towards the sink. Gemma caught Tara by the hair and pushed her face deep into the water. _Who left water in the sink? Goddamnit._ The doctor kicked and thrashed. _She's killing me. I'm going to fucking die here. _Tara struggled to stand, but Gemma's force was too strong. _Goodbye Jax, I love you…oh Abel, Thomas…I love you more. Mommy loves you so much. _Unconsciousness penetrated her brain, and she drifted off.

_Drowning isn't a horrible way to go, once you let go…Wait. Am I dead? Is this Heaven? _Tara's eyes blinked open. The first thing she saw was blood. _There's no blood in Heaven. _It was black and sticky, and it was everywhere. The only thing she could truly focus on was a long, spiked heel. Her heart began to race. _Gemma. Oh God. I'm still alive. She's still here. What the fuck do I do. _The shoe didn't move, neither did the leg attached to it. Tara pulled her head up. When her eyes focused, her heart told her to scream, but her head told her to stay silent.

_Gemma is dead. She's fucking dead. _Tara sat up slowly. Her head throbbed with pain. Her entire body couldn't comprehend its current living status. _I'm alive. And she's dead. _As she focused on the scene, she gasped with what she saw. _Eli. Oh no._

Charming's sheriff lay dead just feet away from Gemma. Both corpses sported bullet wounds. Gemma's went straight through her skull, and Eli's had cleared his chest. Tara couldn't think. She could barely move, but she pulled herself up and sat in the corner. She began to rock slowly back and forth.

She had no idea what happened. She couldn't even begin to comprehend the scene in front her. She began to hum. The rocking and the humming helped.

"Babe?" Tara hadn't even heard the door open, much less heard Jax walk through.

She couldn't speak. All she could do was hum. She heard him pull his gun.

"Oh my God." Jax's voice was barely a whisper. His kitchen floor was covered in blood. He was the only person in the room left unscathed. It looked as though everyone that had been present had been bleeding at one time or another.

"Mom?" Jax looked at Gemma Teller-Morrow's body. _A single bullet wound to the head_. Her beautiful brown eyes were now lifeless and lackluster. Her fingers were covered in blood, and Jax wasn't sure if it was hers or Eli's, because he lay just a few feet from her. The gaping wound in his chest left a massive pool of congealed blood behind. His eyes, unlike Gemma's were at peace. A gentle smile was etched on his face. _At least one of you found relief, _Jax thought. Tears filled his eyes.

"J…J…Jax-x-x-x-," Tara's soft voice broke the silence. Jax hadn't even seen her there. He gasped and dropped the gun. He went to his wife and embraced her. She trembled fiercely. Her hazel eyes were blinking rapidly, and she was completely shellshocked. Her hands fluttered, because she had no idea what to do. She didn't want Jax to hold her, but she couldn't fight him. Horror permeated every fiber of her being. _Did I kill them? Who killed them, if I didn't? Are they going to kill me? Am I next? Oh. My. God. Please. Please. Please. Help. Me._

"Shhh, Babe, shhh. It's okay. I'm here. Jax is here. I'm not going anywhere. I promise." He rocked her back and forth. He didn't even realize he was crying until he felt the tears drip off his jaw.

"Mr. Teller," Tyne Patterson's regal voice filled the silence. "Do you mind telling me what the hell just happened." Jax turned to see the strangely beautiful woman standing in the doorway. Disgust and terror covered her face. Jax gritted his teeth and surveyed the blood soaked floor.

"I don't know exactly," he replied, "But I think it's safe to say our deal is off."


	2. Chapter 2

"Dr. Knowles, is there anything I can get you?" Tara felt dizzy as she tried to read the nurse's nametag.

_Lindsay Jacobs, RN, BSN. _Tara didn't know her, but then again, this was the emergency room, not the NICU, so she didn't expect to. The girl was younger than she and smaller in stature and in size, with honey blonde hair and kind light brown eyes. Concern blanketed those eyes as she studied the doctor's vitals. _Blood pressure is 150/96. Pulse is 102. _Tara still wore a mask of fear and anguish, and she'd barely spoken since they'd brought her in.

Jax was in the hallway with District Attorney Patterson. Tara couldn't hear anything, but she was pretty sure what was going down: Jax was cutting a deal of some sort to keep him outside; after all, he needed to find Gemma and Eli's killer. He had to find the person that tried to kill his wife as well. Tara hadn't explained Gemma's brutal attack. She simply couldn't bring herself to do it. Part of her wished she'd died; at least then she didn't have the task of explaining what happened. She didn't have to remember the cold, disgusting water filling her nose and mouth. She could forget the prayers to God to protect her boys and her beloved husband. As it stood, all Tara could forget was what happened after those prayers. She had no idea how she ended up on the floor. She couldn't tell anyone who shot Gemma Teller-Morrow or Eli Roosevelt. It was just easier to allow Jax to assume that her attacker was the same attacker that killed the others. The assumption would allow her time to piece everything together.

_What if I can't remember? _ The thought plagued her mind. Did it matter? She was alive and Gemma was dead. Evil was extinguished, and she could finally raise the boys in a semblance of peace. Maybe she and Jax could try and escape the club. Tara felt her heart rate slow with that thought. She allowed herself to imagine a normal life with Jax. They would head up to Oregon or to Washington with Abel and Thomas. She'd find work at a hospital, and he could start his own mechanic business. The boys could have them both in their lives. Maybe, just maybe, if Jax could tie the mess her life had become into a neat and tidy package, they could have the happily ever after they'd both longed for.

_What if I killed them? _The thought plagued her mind, killing the fantasy. She tried like hell to remember. Nothing but blackness came. Tears sprang to her eyes. If she was the guilty party, could Jax forgive her? Could the club? Would they understand that it was kill or be killed? Would they be able to see past the hold Gemma had on SAMCRO, or would they crucify the good doctor? She sighed as the nurse left the room. Everything was so uncertain.  
Jax entered the room. Dressed in his kutte, a white tee shirt and loose jeans, he looked like he did almost every day, but it was the guilt in his eyes that made him look different. He tried to smile, but it didn't work. Worry was all she could see. It was her turn to feel guilty. He loved her; she knew it. There was no question, and it was that love that kept him from mourning his mother. She wondered if he knew the truth. If he did, she would appreciate an update.

"Hey Babe," he said slowly. He walked to her bedside and gently sat beside her. His hand covered hers. She looked deeply into his eyes, and her heart constricted with pain as his huge blue eyes stared into hers. A light mist of tears stung the back of her eyes. She ached down to her very soul. All she wanted to do was turn back the clock. _But where would I turn the clock back to? _The nagging voice in her mind told her exactly where to turn back time.  
_You should have stayed in Chicago._ She knew it was true. Everything changed when she arrived in Charming. His destiny was just as wrapped up in her as her destiny was wrapped up in his, and there was no turning back. _I just fucking had to come back. I had to bring Kohn. I wish he would have just killed me. Then Jax wouldn't be here. His mother would be alive, and I wouldn't know this goddamned pain. _

"How are you holding up?" he asked. His left hand reached to stroke her hair. She leaned into his hand without thinking. Jax Teller was just as much habit as he was love, and he was hard as hell to break. His thumb found her bruised jawbone, and he gently stroked the sore flesh. The touch was so gentle, tears scalded her eyes. They fell , unbidden, down her cheeks. No words were said. Jax embraced his wife, grateful he wasn't burying her too.  
Tara could hear Jax's heart thumping against his sternum. It was one of two of the most comforting sounds she knew. The other was the sound of the boys breathing as they slept. She sobbed as she realized how close she came to losing them all. Jax clutched her tightly, sobbing with her.

_ Let her go Gemma! _The sound of a male voice rang in Tara's ears. _What the hell are you doing? _She felt Gemma's grip loosen, but her long talon-like fingers still held a fierce grip. Tara stopped struggling. _She's fucking dead, Gemma! What the fuck have you done?! _She could feel Gemma letting go. The talons released her, and Tara fell to floor. She was barely breathing, and she struggled to stay conscious. A strange chill overwhelmed her, and she shivered ever so slightly. She wanted to open her eyes, but they didn't cooperate.

_No! No! No! _It was Gemma's turn to scream. Tara's mind was fuzzy. Her heart was pounding. The sounds of her mother-in-law's terror registered in Tara's brain, but her body, completely broken down from Gemma's assault, couldn't respond to the chaos surrounding her. Gemma screamed. Peel after peel of horror erupted from her throat, and Tara was powerless to stop it.

That's when the gunshots came. Tara heard them, six or seven of them, in quick succession. Gemma's screams stopped. A heavy thud hit the floor. _What the hell happened? _

"Tara." Jax's anguished voice broke Tara's memory. "Babe, talk to me. Do you remember anything? Do you know what happened?" He cradled her face in his hands. They were so warm, so comforting. She closed her eyes, reveling in the touch. She loved him. God, did she love him.

She shook her head in the negative. She'd only remembered that small bit, and that wasn't enough to help. Not yet, anyway. She buried her head in the crook between Jax's shoulder and his neck. She inhaled his earthy scent. Instinctively, she wrapped her arms around his tight, hard waist. She could feel him trembling, and she knew her husband was a jumble of crazed emotions. Less than twelve hours ago, their fate seemed sealed: Jax was going to prison to save their family. He decided to leave behind SAMCRO, and in that agreement, he freed her from the criminal life they'd both seemed destined to live.

"I love you, Jackson Teller," she murmured into his flesh. Wordlessly, he grabbed her face again. Slowly, carefully, he touched her lips with his. She released his waist and reached to caress his face. She brushed his tears away.

"I love you, Tara." He broke their embrace, but he still clutched her hands.

"What's going to happen now?" Tara spoke, even though she didn't want to. She could barely whisper. Her throat was raw from the water, from the screaming, and from the tears. Jax stared at the floor and stayed silent for a moment.

"I talked to Patterson. She's going to work with me, but I don't have a lot of time. She wants answers, and she wants a person to pin Eli and…and…" Jax swallowed hard. "Gemma's deaths. If I can find the killer, if I can pin responsibility on someone, then she may cut a deal with me, with us."  
Tara blinked. The deal they'd struck with Patterson seemed like ancient history now, but she knew that all the tragedies that led up to this day would eventually catch up, and they would have to answer for everything: Pamela Toric, the school shooting, and now Gemma and Eli. She hadn't prayed in ages, but part of her ached to unburden herself on someone, and she knew that someone couldn't be Jax. Not yet.

"Jax, I…I…don't remember what happened. Not now, anyway…I…I..don't know how much help I'll be…I don't want you to put all your hopes on what I can recall…right now, it's nothing."

"I know, Tara." It was all Jax could say. The door to Tara's room swung open. A tall, caramel skinned woman walked in. Her pale green eyes quickly scanned them both.

"Dr. Knowles," she said sweetly. "Mr. Teller." She knew the pretty ER physician. She'd come to St. Thomas months prior, but they hadn't spoken much, unless the ER requested her for a consult.

"Dr. Christopher," Tara returned. She watched the gorgeous woman flicked her long, chocolate locks over her shoulder._ Doctors shouldn't be that pretty. _  
"Your bloodwork came back normal. Your CT is as good as to be expected, as did your chest x-ray. If you were a typical patient, you'd be staying overnight for observation."

"But she's not a typical patient, right Doc?" Jax spoke up for her. Tara looked at her husband. He clutched her hand. He wasn't planning on ever letting her go.

"Right," she said quietly. "I'm going to let you go, but I need to you to be careful. You've been through hell and back tonight, and it is against my better judgment that I am releasing you." Tara nodded.

"I spoke with Margaret. She wants you to call her and discuss where you're going from here." Tara said nothing. The hospital administrator was the last thing on her mind. "I'm writing you a script for pain medication. The nurse will bring it in, along with your discharge instructions."

"Thank you Doc," Jax said. Dr. Christopher nodded. She spun on her heel and left the room.

"Where are we going to stay tonight?" Tara asked the obvious question. "I mean…"

"I know. We're going to the cabin. We'll be based out of there for a while. Patterson already knows where we'll be, so do Bobby and Chibs. I feel it's safest there, especially with Mom's killer still on the loose."

Tara nodded once more and ignored the chill rising up her spine. _Especially with Mom's killer on the loose. _ The sound of gunshots flew through Tara's psyche again. The screaming demand to let her go helped her realize that she wasn't responsible for the death of Gemma and Eli. She had been powerless to stop the deaths, but she didn't kill them.

She closed her eyes and struggled to remember. Nothing came. The voice she heard was still jumbled in her mind. Nothing made sense. She began to shake uncontrollably.

"J…J…Jax," she stammered again. It seemed to be all that she was capable of now. Stammering and shaking and sobbing seemed to be all she could do. Her entire world was shattered, and somehow, they'd have to pick up the pieces one more time, just as they always did. Jax folded Tara in a tight embrace.

"Let's go get our boys, honey. Let's get out of St. Thomas, and let's get Thomas and Abel, and let's just go to the cabin. I just want to hold you and protect you and love you."

_He needs me as much as I need him._ It was a sobering thought. Despite all that happened, Jax had endured just as much as she had. He left SAMCRO and came to their home, expecting to go to jail. He was greeted with a dead sheriff and his dead mother. His wife was a stammering mess in the corner. Guilt ate at Tara's heart. _My poor fucking husband. My poor fucking kids. My poor fucking family._

__The coming days were going to bring Gemma and Eli's funerals. The coming days were going to bring heartache and pain and agony unimaginable. Tara hated to think of it all, but as they gathered her things and began to leave, she knew she was grateful to be alive. Everything could have been very, very different.

They left St. Thomas hand in hand. When she saw the bike, her grip on his hand tightened. Jax let go and moved behind her. A thick, well-muscled arm encircled her shoulders. She could feel his lips lightly touch the back of her neck.

"It's over now," he whispered. "You don't have to be scared." She stared for a moment longer, as an unseasonably cool wind caressed her face. He noticed the fear in her eyes. He barely saw any trace of the passionate beauty that he had so lusted over all those years ago. The woman that stood by him now was broken, and the months of shame showed like a biography written across her face.

_I have to make this right. _Jax's jaw tightened with resolve. _I have to find out what happened in that house. I have to find out what happened to Gemma, to Eli, to Tara. _He felt Tara relax under his touch. _And I have to make a choice. I can't stay with SAMCRO now. I have pulled this woman through the depths of hell, and if Fate hadn't intervened, I'd be planning her funeral too. _He sighed and pulled her against him. A faint, ironic smile played across her lips.

"Jax, my whole life now is about fear, isn't it?" Tara didn't expect an answer, and Jax didn't have one. Instead, she broke the embrace and walked slowly towards his bike. Robotically, she strapped a helmet on and climbed on the back. He watched as she waited for him.

"Mine is too, Tara," he whispered. "Mine is too." Without another thought, he walked to his bike and to the woman he loved. He straddled the Harley and cranked it to life. As they sped away, he realized just how scared he was. After the day he'd had, it was probably the only thing keeping him alive.


	3. Chapter 3

The cabin held more ghosts than it did memories. Tara could feel the specters of her past haunting her. She hadn't slept well in days, and when she did sleep, images of Gemma erupted in her mind. She didn't understand what had pushed her mother-in-law to do what she did, and that wreaked havoc on her emotions. _I should be relieved Gemma is gone. I should be thankful she was killed. Gemma's murderer saved my life. _

Still, she couldn't shake the feeling of doom that rested in her chest. Images of her dead mother-in-law assailed her, and none of them were of the insane, violent woman that almost took her life. _She's holding Abel. God, he was so tiny. She read to him every single night. _Tara shook her head. It was as if she was trying to dislodge the good of Gemma from her memory. Unanswered questions plagued her: _Who did this? _Images of rival gangs and SAMCRO enemies danced in her head. T_he Mayans, the Chinese, the Irish. _She racked her brain. _That makes no sense_. If it was any of them, they wouldn't have left any room for error; they would have shot her just to make sure she was truly dead. _That voice. _ She could still hear it; she simply didn't recognize it. Her head had been submerged in water. The voice was deep, and that's all she could recall.

Her gut churned. Night had fallen on the cabin. The boys were lost in peaceful dreams as Tara was lost in thought. Jax was outside, talking to Chibs. Gemma was going to be buried tomorrow. It was a strange, sobering thought. Eli Roosevelt had been laid to rest already, and it seemed impossible to believe that almost a week had passed since that night. _Too many graves. _A roll call of the dead screamed in her memory: _Donna. Luanne. Hale. Dawn. Opie. Clay._ She clamped her eyes shut as tears threatened to fall. _Now Gemma and Eli. _She inhaled deeply. _It could have been me. It could have been me. _The words stayed on repeat as Tara began to rock back and forth. _It could have been me._

__ "Hey darlin'," Jax's voice entered the room before he did. His heart shattered when he saw his wife weeping and rocking, mumbling to herself. _She's broken. _He wondered if Tara would ever be the woman she once was. He sat beside her and wrapped a strong arm around her thin frame. He looked at the walls of the room they'd been sharing. His soul had never felt so empty. In the span of less than two weeks, everything in his life had changed. They were no closer to finding Gemma and Eli's killer than they were before, and they were running out of time. DA Patterson wanted someone to pin the school shooting on; that hadn't changed. Now, with his mother and the sheriff's pictures splattered across the newspapers and television, Charming grew rabidly hungry for the culprit.

From what Jax had gathered from Bobby and Chibs, Charming was tense, at best. Pockets of violence were breaking out everywhere. From robbery to fist fights and shoot outs, the tiny town Jax had always called home was starting to unravel at the seams. Businesses were closing before dark. Regular people carried guns and knives. It was as close to anarchy as Jax or Bobby or Chibs had ever seen, and it was terrifying. JT's ideas, in their own twisted way, were coming to fruition, and it wasn't anything SAMCRO could have ever truly anticipated.

Tara had leaned into his shoulder. Jax wrapped his other free arm around her. She melted into him, grateful for his strong, hard body. Her head just seemed to fit on his shoulder, and it felt safe. His hand reached up and stroked her short dark hair. Her hand grazed his thigh, and desire flooded him. It was hard, even in her fragile state, to not want her. He'd respected her need to be alone. He wanted her to go through every emotion she needed to through. The only thing he wanted was his wife to return to him.

Tara reached out and gently caressed his face. He closed his eyes. His heart thumped rapidly against his chest. Carefully, he reached up and covered her hand with his. He gently pulled it away and slowly kissed her palm, then her wrist. A low hum of pleasure escaped her throat. _I miss him._ Her body yearned for him. Her head still on his shoulder, she placed her lips on his neck. She could feel his pulse quicken beneath her mouth. His fingers entwined with hers. He moved his head, so their lips could meet. He drank her in hungrily as she responded to his kiss. Slowly, they both leaned back on the bed, side-by-side.

"Tara," her name was a gravelly murmur. She pushed his kutte off his shoulders. It slid down his arms and onto the bed. In one fluid motion, he rolled atop her and straddled her. His hands made quick work of the buttons on her black shirt. Her ivory skin was exposed. He stifled an incredulous gasp. His throat ached with unused tears as he stared. He couldn't move. Massive discolorations covered her abdomen. A long black bruise rested on her left shoulder, just beneath her black bra strap. _God, what the hell did you go through, Tara? _ _ I only wish I knew. I bet you do too._

She saw the horror in his eyes. In that moment, she'd forgotten about the battle scars. All she wanted was to feel something good again. Shame and fear coursed through her veins. Her heart felt like it was in her throat. Part of her wanted to crawl under the bed and rot, but the part of her that survived and lived on wanted her husband. With a deep breath, Tara sat up. Her hand gripped the back of his neck, and she pulled him close.

"Make love to me, Jackson," she whispered. "Make me forget everything but you."

"I don't want to hurt you, Tara," he returned. A hot flush suffused her cheeks as anger took over. _What if I want you to hurt me, Jax? What if I want to be everything you think an old lady should be? What if I want to be brutal and tough as nails, like...like...?_

_"_You won't hurt me," she answered quickly, dismissing that thought. The words were tight with frustration. He gazed at her and shook his head, disbelieving. He started to roll away, but she forcefully jerked him back. They stared at one another for a moment. She watched as he quietly assessed her.

"Yes, I will, Tara," he answered. "You're in no condition to do this. You're too fragile right now. I can't risk it, no matter how much I want you."

"Fragile? You really just said that, Jackson?" Her words were drenched in bitterness. "After what I just survived, after what I've seen, you're really calling me fucking _fragile_?" A clip of harsh, angry laughter left her mouth. "Is this _fragile_?" She gripped his face in her hands and pulled in to her. Her mouth crushed brutally against his. Her tongue probed wildly. Aroused, he returned the kiss for equal force, and together, they fell back on the mattress. She gently nibbled his lips as his hands set fire to her skin. She could feel his fingers unbuttoning her jeans. Her hands slid underneath his black tee shirt. She could feel every ripple of cut muscle beneath her fingertips.

Jax sat up and pulled the shirt off. Tara's eyes widened at the sight of his beauty. _It never gets old. He's just so goddamned beautiful. _He gripped the waist of her jeans and pulled them off. Her black, boy shorts came off shortly thereafter. Now clad only in her open black blouse and black bra, Tara propped herself up on her hands to allow Jax to pull the remaining garments off. He cradled her back for a moment and ripped the shirt and bra away, and he took a moment to gaze upon the woman he loved. _I almost lost her. God, what if lost her? _

He couldn't allow himself to think of the answer. Instead, he stood and pulled what was left of his clothing off. His jeans and boxers fell to the floor, and he leisurely climbed atop his wife. He reveled in the electricity of his skin on hers. Her back arched as his tongue traced the slender column of her throat.

"God, I want you, Tara," he muttered thickly. Tara didn't speak; instead, she wrapped her long, slender legs around Jax's waist. The sensation was enough to drive him to madness. Her fingers dug into his back, and she moaned. Without hesitation, Jax thrust into her willing body. His jaw clenched and a deep groan rattled his throat. Her legs tightened around him as they picked up each other's rhythm. Within moments, they were drenched with sweat, inhaling and exhaling together. Tara stared into his eyes, and to his astonishment, Jax couldn't take the intimacy. It was just too much.

_ What if I lost her? _ The question plagued his mind as he pumped harder into her. His throat ached, as did the rest of his body. He couldn't breathe. The tension in his bones and muscles was the most exquisite torture, but it was his mind that haunted him. _I can't lose her. I cannot lose this woman. Not now, not ever. I love her too much._

__Tara moved beneath her husband as he skillfully moved within her. _This is what I needed, _she thought. _ God, I love him. I love him so fucking much_. She closed her eyes and arched beneath him. She moaned and held on for dear life.

"Jackson, I..." she couldn't finish the sentence. Shudder after shudder ripped through her body as she came. An oblivion of light and heat engulfed her, and she didn't realize she was repeating her husband's name over and over again in a litany of passion and desire and deep, abiding love. Jax wasn't far behind her. Satisfied that she'd attained her satisfaction, he allowed himself the long overdue release. Breathless, he collapsed atop her. His mind and his heart played with his soul as the unending question stayed on repeat in his conscience. _What if there was no Tara? What if I was alone? _Before he even realized it, he was shaking with uncontrollable, unyielding sobs.

Tara lay under him in disbelief. He clutched her tightly as the dam of tears broke through, soaking her skin. She tried to put her arms around him, but they were pinioned by her sides. He sobbed violently. He couldn't even begin to control it. He cried for Tara, for himself, for the boys. His tears were for Donna and Opie and even Clay. He'd lost so much, and he'd been so focused on his wife, he'd forgotten to grieve_. Mom, I'm so sorry. _Thoughts of Gemma assailed him. _There she is, sitting next to Clay at the head of the table. She's reading to Abel. Thomas loved her so much. _He remembered the night she told them of her rape. _The agony in her eyes. She carried this burden. Alone. _Gemma Teller-Morrow, for all her insanity and bloodlust, had done one thing with her entire heart and soul: she loved her boys. Every single one of them.

_Gemma_. The word echoed within him_. Mom_. He hadn't even begun to process the pain_. _Images of her lying on his kitchen floor flooded his mind's eye. Images of Tara, wet, broken, bloody, and terrified flashed intermittently in between. He rolled away from his wife and turned his back to her. Curled in an almost fetal position, Jax sobbed on.

Tara was stunned. Jax had always been made of pure steel, willing and able to set all emotions aside for his club and his family. To see him break down brought tears to her own eyes. Wordlessly, she reached for one of the cast aside blankets and covered him. She pressed her body against his back as she snuggled under the covers. Her arms held him, and she cried quietly as he cried. _This poor man. If he knew even the small bit I remember, would he still love me? _Tara closed her eyes. _I cannot be without him. Even if that means he never finds out. I almost lost him, and he almost lost me, and the boys…_She stopped thinking. She couldn't think of her sons as orphans. She refused.

Slowly, Jax's sobs ceased. Tara's embrace tightened. Jax's hands held hers, and she reveled in the feeling. _I know he loves me. I can never, ever doubt that again._ Her hands rubbed Jax's chiseled torso. _He grieves the possible loss of me just as much as he grieves the very real loss of his mother._ The thought was a sobering one. She kissed his shoulder.

"I'm sorry, Tara," his voice was hollow as he spoke to her. "I think everything…"

"Just hit you all at once?" Tara finished. His gorgeous blonde head nodded. He rolled to face her, and Tara's soul retched as she saw his tear swollen face. The pillar of strength and manliness she'd worshipped since she turned sixteen was now a disheveled, fucked up mess. It was humbling for them both.

"In one night, our world fell apart," he stated. It was Tara's turn to nod. _Your mother almost killed me. If Fate hadn't intervened, you'd be planning my funeral right now, not Gemma's. _Hate and heartbreak roiled in her blood. _Goddamn it, Gemma, why couldn't you just let me explain? Why couldn't you let me talk? Why did you have to beat me into submission? _Vomit threatened her throat as she fought the urge be sick.

"My mother is dead. Someone shot her to death in the home we shared with our sons. And I know that, somehow, some way, it can be traced back to me." Tara swallowed hard. _If he only knew._

__"I walked into our home, thinking I'd be turning myself in to save you, to save the club, to save our boys, and…it was a bloodbath. A fucking bloodbath. Eli had a massive hole in his chest, and Mom had a bullet in her goddamned head. I lost it. I fucking lost it." Tara nodded. Jax clenched his teeth as he continued.

"And when I searched for you, I thought you…I thought that…"

"You don't have to say it, Jax," Tara said slowly. "Trust me, I never expected to live through it after Gemma…" Jax's eyes narrowed as her voice trailed off.

"After Gemma what, Tara?" Jax's voice cracked. "Do you remember something?" Tara's heart beat in an imperfect rhythm. She looked down. She wasn't thinking. She didn't mean to mention Gemma's name, and now she didn't know how to undo her words. She began to shake again. Her entire body trembled. Fear took over, as did memories. Suddenly, Tara was submerged in the water again. Gemma had already let go, and Tara's body, worn down from struggle, collapsed onto the ground. She tried to open her eyes, but she was so weak.

_So goddamned weak. _That's when the gunshots came. A hail of gunfire erupted in the small space. Tara was paralyzed and terrified.

"Oh my God." It was that voice, but this time, it was clearer, not as jumbled. It was still low, barely a whisper. Silence was deafening. Tara heard footsteps. She tried to open her eyes. They fluttered open, then shut again. This happened two or three times. In the distance, she saw a black clad figure running from them. Black leather boots were all she could make out. They ran down the hallway. The door slammed shut, as did Tara's recollection.

"You do remember," Jax stated. Tara shook her head.

"Not as much as you think I do, Jax," she whispered. _And more than you could have ever imagined. _Jax pulled her close. He didn't want to hurt her tonight. He hurt enough for the both of them. His family was all but destroyed. The boys slept on in the bedroom across the hall, and Tara was in his arms. The irony hadn't escaped him. Almost every single piece of his old family was gone. _JT. Thomas. Donna. Opie. Piney. Clay. Otto. Gemma. _Only the family he'd forged with Tara remained. So far, their love was stronger than anything else. It was what Jax relied upon to keep his sanity. His heart was broken, but it would heal. As long as Jax had them, he could stand anything.

"You're not going to lose me, Jackson." Her voice was almost inaudible, but he heard her. He stared into Tara's beautiful eyes, and he remembered the anguish that came with just the _idea _of losing her. He pulled her against his chest. He could feel her heart beat against his ribs. It was the most wonderful sensation. His whole body tingled.

As Jax drifted off to sleep, Tara's words comforted him. She couldn't help but rest her head on his chest, and Jax loved the feeling of her body against his. When they woke in the morning, they would head back to Charming. They'd lay Gemma in the ground, and she'd join the ranks of the SAMCRO dead. Jax's past was dying with each soul they buried, and he couldn't help but remember his long-gone promises to Tara. Resolved hardened within him as he realized what he had to do. He knew he couldn't stay in Charming. Losing his mother and almost losing Tara had finally pushed the King of SAMCRO to come to a conclusion he'd known would happen all along. _I have to break away from the club. _It was true. As much as he loved the club, he knew that one day, in one way or another, Tara would be gone if he didn't. That wasn't something he was willing to bear. Sorrow ached within him, but he knew it was he right decision. The only question was _how_. He had precious little time to figure It out, but he could do it.

Right now, all he could focus on was the sound gentle and familiar sound of Tara sleeping. It lulled Jax into something calm and steady. The time to figure out his next move would come soon, but at this moment, with his beloved wife in his arms, all he could think of was his family. She lay next to him, and as her breathing deepened and became more rhythmic, it soothed his nerves and lulled him softly to sleep. Revenge and plans and mayhem could wait just a little bit longer.


	4. Chapter 4

A sea of black surrounded Jax, Tara, and the boys. Both Tara and Jax knew the turnout would be massive, but almost a thousand people turned out to pay respects to SAMCRO's dead dowager queen. Tara and Jax were seated. Tara held a sleeping Thomas, and Abel sat on Jax's lap. Behind them stood Bobby, Chibs, Tig, Happy, and Juice. Unser sat to the left of Tara. Her free hand held his as he wept freely. She felt the guilt pouring off of him. She silently wondered if he felt her guilt too.

"Gemma Teller-Morrow was a good woman." Tara felt ill as the preacher spoke. _Yeah, she was great. Almost killing me was her crown fucking achievement. _Tara noticed how she went back and forth with her emotions. She vacillated between anger and all-out fury to sadness and nostalgia and back again. If it weren't for her boys and for Jax, she would never feel even the slightest bit of happiness.

"She was a giver to the Charming community. She reached out to many charitable organizations, and she gave so much to St. Thomas, but the one place she will be missed most is at home. Her boys, Jackson and Abel and Thomas, as well as her daughter Tara, they were her world." Tara wanted to vomit as the word _daughter _left his lips.

_Daughter._ It was such a strange word. There had been a time she considered herself a daughter to Gemma. Back before all the insanity set in, Gemma was one of her closest allies. She taught her how to navigate the murky waters of the club. For all intents and purposes, Gemma had taught Tara how to better love her son.

Jax held her right hand. Sunglasses masked his eyes. Tara could see the tears falling. She was just glad he could cry. He needed to cry. He needed to get the pain out. It was good for him. It was good for both of them. She watched as Jax stared at the coffin. It was black, polished to a high shine. The silver handles glimmered in the noonday sun. Sprays of roses, of all colors, surrounded the casket. _Roses were Gemma's favorites. _

"Today, we say goodbye," the preacher intoned. "We say goodbye to a leader. We say goodbye to a wife, a mother, a grandmother. Gemma Teller-Morrow was all of these things and more. She was so much more."

Tara was shocked as tears streamed down her face. _Why am I crying? _ Her conscience answered. _You're crying because you loved her. You're crying because, no matter what, you thought that there was some way you could repair whatever you had…_

There was no hope now. Gemma was gone, and with every day that passed, Tara was remembering more. Last night, while she lay in Jax's sleeping arms, she had a breakthrough of sorts. _I can still smell the blood. _She was back in the kitchen. Her skin stuck to the floor. She couldn't lift herself up, but her eyes fluttered back open and cooperated. She saw the boots again. They paced, as if their inhabitant had a struggle, a decision to make. Finally, they stopped. The boots were coming at her. She closed her eyes quickly. She didn't want the culprit to think she was still alive.

The shooter was inches away from her. She could smell a subtle hint of cologne. Silently, he knelt. He gently touched her hair. She could feel a strange, subtle wetness on her arm. _Tears. The man is crying._

"I'm sorry," he murmured softly. The voice was barely a croak, and she didn't recognize it. With another quick stroke, the man stood. The boots left her.

_Amazing Grace._ The song soared in the air. Tara's eyes dried. Thomas had woken, but he didn't cry. He just observed his mother with sweet, innocent eyes, oblivious to the army of bikers surrounding them. Tara smiled lovingly at her son as she relished the weight of him in the crook of her arm. Unser was crying. Tara's heart constricted. He was the one man Tara trusted to spill her secrets, but decided to stay quiet about what Gemma had done, especially now. _Oh, how Wayne loved her, flaws and all. _ _His whole world is gone. I can't break his heart more._

As the last note rang out, the preacher asked all to rise. Tara stood with Jax and Unser. The man of God motioned for the family to grab a clod of dirt. Jax placed Abel's feet on the ground. He held the little boy's hand as they moved towards the grave. All but Tara, who still held Thomas, grabbed the earth. She watched as Jax threw the clump of dirt onto his mother's casket. Each member of SAMCRO followed suit. Unser and Abel stood together. Abel reached down and without hesitation, grabbed a fist of earth. He looked up at Unser. Tara's heart broke. _He's waiting on Unser. Oh, sweet Jesus. _

Unser's whole body shook with ragged, unyielding sobs. Tara thought he'd collapse with the weight of his grief. She passed the baby to Jax and began walking towards him, but when Unser knelt and copied Abel's action, she stopped. The old man, riddled with cancer, reached out and grabbed the little boy's hand. Together, they threw their last respects onto the glorified box. Tara hadn't realized she'd been holding her breath until she exhaled. She could feel Jax's presence behind her. They stood together as what was left of Gemma was lowered into the ground. Tara began to tear up again, and when the tears fell, she didn't stop them. She just let them fall. She needed to grieve, just like her son did. Just like they all did.

As she cried, she felt SAMCRO surround her. Chibs, Bobby, Tig, Juice, and Happy stood with them. Just a few hundred feet behind them, Sons of Anarchy charters from all over stood in solidarity. The familiar tug of war between what she thought was right and what she knew was right began. Each club member held a special place in her heart, and she knew they'd die to protect her and her boys, but death abounded in the club. How many more funerals would she have to attend? Love couldn't buy back lives lost.

"C'mon babe, let's head back." Jax sounded as drained as she felt. She nodded. They turned to leave. The sun had reached its highest point, and Tara could feel her exposed shoulders beginning to redden.  
They walked towards the car. Tara turned to look at Gemma's resting place one more time. One more glance would bring the closure she desperately needed.

When she turned, she spied a tall, black clad figure. He stood by Gemma's grave. She stopped and watched him. He stood for a moment, his head bowed in prayer. She began walking back. Jax noticed and called her name.

"Tara, are you ok? We should go." Tara nodded absently and motioned towards Gemma. Jax saw the man standing there, and instantly he understood. She watched as he turned his back and walked, with the boys, towards the car. She knew he'd wait for her.

"Nero," Tara said gently. The man stood straight. He was dressed in head-to-toe black. His salt and pepper hair blew in the breeze. He stared ahead, not physically acknowledging Tara's presence.

"I cannot fucking believe this is happening. It's surreal." Tara moved closer to him. Their shoulders almost touched. She looked at his face. His eyes were covered by large, black sunglasses. Underneath the lenses, tears streamed down his face and off his chin.

"Yeah, it is. I'm still having a hard time reconciling it myself."

"I loved her, Tara." Tara nodded. "I loved her enough to think we'd have a future outside of this SAMCRO life. I even asked her to come to my uncle's farm. She refused, of course." A sardonic smile spread across his face. "She just wouldn't leave."

"I know," Tara replied. She looked down at her feet, unsure of what else to say.

"She told you?" Nero was surprised. Tara shook her head.

"No, but I know you want out. I know you wanted to save Gemma. I struggle with that need every single day with her son. It's been my whole world since I came back to Charming. I can't escape it, no matter how hard I try. When I wake up, I am scared, and when I go to bed, I am scared. There are nights I don't sleep at all. I'm just waiting for something else to happen."

"It's not any way to live, Tara," Nero countered. This time, Tara nodded.

"I know."

"So what now, Tara? Where do we go from here? What does Jax want to do?"

"He has to find who did this. Patterson wants redemption for the school shooting, and she's only giving Jax a small timeframe to find the killer. If he doesn't, he has to comply with the deal set in motion before this happened, and that will leave the boys and me outside and very much alone. With a murderer loose, that thought is…"

"Terrifying," Nero finished the sentence. She nodded again. Nero turned to face Tara. He removed his glasses. She turned to face him. She could feel the sun scorching her exposed skin, but she didn't care. Nero's pain was tangible, and filled her stomach with a hollow ache she didn't quite understand. She reached out and stroked his arm. He stepped back like he'd been burned.

"Don't." His voice was agitated. Tara's brow furrowed in confusion.

"I'm sorry," she said calmly. "I didn't mean to…"

"I have to go," Nero mumbled. He turned on his heel and walked away. Tara questioned whether or not to stop him, but she let him go. Slowly, she made her way back to the limo. Jax and the boys waited quietly inside. She was surprised that Thomas had remained calm throughout.

"Hey babe," Jax said, sliding a muscular arm around her shoulders, "How's Nero doing?"

"As well as can be expected," she sighed. Her mind was racing. The way Nero moved away from her was so damned strange. She couldn't begin to understand it. _Grief has its way with people_. As she looked out the tinted window, she stared at Gemma's final resting place. She won the battle. She should have felt triumphant. She should have felt relieved. None of those feelings made up Tara Knowles Teller; if anything, the opposite was occurring. Despite what happened between Tara and her mother-in-law, she mourned the loss of Gemma Teller-Morrow.

Her boys lost their only grandparent. Her husband lost his mother, and with every breath Tara took, she knew how dangerous her life was. The killer had to know she was alive. The reprieve from the sink water wouldn't last long, and her memory wasn't cooperating. Every single cell in her body was highly aware of the importance of those recollections. Without them, Jax could go to jail, and she and the boys could die.

"What are you thinking about darlin'?" Jax questioned. She blinked and smiled emptily. She glanced at him, then her gaze fell on Abel and Thomas. _My boys. _ She would do anything for them.

"I'm just really blessed to have you," she choked out. Her voice was hoarse with tears as she looked back to her husband. Seeing this, Jax pulled her into his embrace and rocked her slowly. He adored her, and she knew it. He didn't have to say it; it was in the careful way he held her. It had taken a living hell for her to fully realize it, and that broke her heart.

"We're just as blessed to have you," he whispered in return.

She closed her eyes and let him hold her. Vulnerability had always been easy with Jax. It felt good to be protected and cherished. It felt good to have his arms encircle her. She didn't quite realize how much it meant to her until she almost lost it. She fought for her sons, and it almost cost Tara her life. She had lost sight of her husband's love, but she felt like he'd lost himself along the way too. Now, in one another's arms, she knew that they were right back where they belonged.

_Now if I can just remember, _she thought. _I'll be able to save us all. _


	5. Chapter 5

_Charming Mother and Sheriff Found Dead._

Juice knew the headline was true. After all, he'd seen the blood and the brains on the floor. He'd seen Gemma's lifeless form. He'd seen Eli's hauntingly beautiful death stare. He'd also seen Tara lying on the floor. At the time, he thought she was dead as well. Once again, Juice was wrong.

He was used to being a fuck up. It was etched in his DNA. His family never really hesitated to remind him of it, and after an entire lifetime of paying for mistakes, he just accepted the fact that he'd always be lesser. That's why he never really climbed the SAMCRO ladder; he was perfectly happy hanging by the wayside. It always suited him. It always made sense.

Until now. It made sense until he got blitzed out of his mind on Oxy and spilled Darvany's fate to Nero Padilla. Fear plagued him the moment Jax embraced him and made it well known that he felt betrayed by Juice's fucked up confessions. Juice knew he was a dead man. It no longer mattered what he said or did. It would take a miracle to get him out of the mess he was in.

_Miracles happen every day. _His grandmother Lydia, his father's mother, said it all the time. Once upon a time, when he believed in love and magic, when he still had hope, he thought miracles truly existed. He remembered her sitting on the stoop of their old Queens brownstone, her long skirts billowing around her. It didn't matter if it was a sweltering summer day or a frigid wintery one, her ancient, life-worn body would sit and wait for her son to come home.

"You'll see, my baby, you'll see. He'll come back." Juice could still see glimmer of hope in her black eyes. "He love you, Juan Carlos. He love his boy, yes he do. Love his Mama too." When he was little, he'd brave the elements and sit with her. By the time he was thirteen, he no longer believed in miracles, but Lydia never stopped. He didn't know where the hope came from, because his mother told him long ago that his father would never be back.

There were pictures of his father in Lydia's room. They adorned the walls, sat at her bedside. Juice would spend hours in there when he was little. He'd study the man who abandoned him for resemblances. They had the same smile, the same crinkle around the eyes. That is where the similarities ended. His father, a chocolate skinned Haitian, and his mother, a fair, dark eyed Puerto Rican, made the strange caramel mix that was Juan Carlos Ortiz. If it weren't for Lydia's very old, very sick self, he would have never known who his father was. Michael Cole left on December 27, 1980. Juice wasn't even a day old, but what stuck with him more was that he left Lydia behind. Poor Lydia, with her bad knees and her crooked back. Sweet Lydia, who would rock Juice to sleep at night. Wonderful Lydia, who still believed in the good in everything, even her irresponsible criminal son.

Now, in this parallel universe, where miracles no longer existed, and hope and happiness no longer mattered, Juice sat in a tiny, roach infested motel room, trying to forget he'd ever seen Gemma, Eli, or Tara. He tried to figure out his next move. He didn't kill any of them. He was just at the wrong place at the wrong time. It was the story of his life. The weird quiet of the Gallery Motel had descended outside. He could hear the din of hookers outside. It was too early in the morning for full on fucking, and it was just after the mid-morning blow job rush, so the working girls sat and gossiped by his door. The low feminine sound did his heart good. He felt less alone with them nearby. Juice didn't do alone well.

Every time it got quiet outside, he would remember Jax and Tara's house. He would remember the sound of his rubber soled boots sticking to the wood. The rusty, metallic smell of the blood wafted into his nostrils, and it acted like adhesive against the soles of the shoes. He stood, stock-still and wide eyed, incredulously processing the scene before him. Gemma stared blankly at the ceiling, as did Eli.

"J…J…J…" The sound was strange and low, and it caught Juice's attention. _Tara. _He saw her for the first time. She lay face down on the floor, trying, in vain, to lift her head. Covered in filth and blood and soaked to the bone, she struggled to move. Juice froze. The last thing he needed, or wanted, was Tara to see him. The feeling of an all too familiar panic sank into his veins. He couldn't breathe. He could only stare as Tara tried to turn her head.

Without thinking, he knelt beside her. She turned her head away from him, and he gasped when he saw the wound on her temple. Her hands clutched the floor, and he watched, morbidly fascinated as her nails dug into the floor. A sob escaped her throat, and Juice's conscience begged him to help her. Slowly, carefully, he stroked Tara's sticky hair. She lowered her head to the ground again and closed her eyes. She reminded him of a beaten dog.

"I'm sorry," he croaked, tears welling in his eyes. He reached to grab her shoulder, but stopped. He knew what would happen once he turned her over. She'd blame him. He would be the first person she saw, and she would think he did it, and he'd be on the hook for not only Eli's murder, but Gemma's too. He remembered the frigid blue of Jax's eyes before they'd separated. He couldn't navigate them anymore, for they were an abyss of ice. He knew Jax wanted him dead, and he didn't want to be blamed for the collapse of SAMCRO, because Jax would want redemption, and it would tear everyone in the club apart.

"J…J…J…Jax? Is that you?" Tara's voice trembled terribly. Juice's heart shattered. His hand shook almost as much as her voice did.

"I didn't do this," he whispered. He almost didn't believe he'd spoken.

"Didn't d…d…do…w…wh…wha…what?" Tara stammered.

"This. I'm sorry, Tara." He stood to go. His boots made prints on the floor as he ran away. He slammed the door behind him.

He'd ran to Stockton after Jax's cold blue eyes cut through him. He'd run to the dirtiest, most disgusting hotel he could find. There was nothing about the half-lit sign or the dilapidated brick façade that made the Galaxy appealing, but its remote location amongst Stockton's lost souls was exactly what Juice needed. He came to clear his head, to figure out a game plan. Part of him was considering returning to Charming, to face Jax Teller head-on. He knew now wasn't the time. 

Clay's death was a painful and fresh memory, and that, combined with Jax's hatred and Gemma's murder, was enough to destroy him. The one thing he had was money in his pocket, and he'd just used it to buy the Oxy. It was more than enough to do what needed to be done. There would be no mistakes this time, no secret confessions. There would be no savior either. He chained the door and locked it. He deliberately pulled off his kutte and folded it neatly on the bed. He grabbed the Oxy and went to the sink. He noted the brown stains on the ancient porcelain and wondered how many others met the Reaper in this room. He carefully removed the coating from the pills, then with a spoon, he crushed them against the countertop. Once he was satisfied with the powder that remained, he scraped into a tiny plastic cup he'd found in the room. Filling the tiny cup a fourth of the way, he grabbed the syringe and drew the poisonous liquid.

His eyes reminded him of Lydia's. They reflected back at him as he spied his visage in the mirror. _Miracles happen every day, my baby. They do. _He closed his eyes and prayed for a moment. He prayed he'd see Lydia in Heaven, but he prayed that, if he went to Hell, he'd see his father there. Even now, he didn't know if the bastard was alive or dead, but he needed that prayer to be said, just in case.

_It's time. _He ruthlessly tied his arm off, and he tapped it with the opposite hand as he tried to find a vein. Discovering what he sought, he sobbed as he injected the lethal dose. He didn't even feel his body hit the floor before he lost consciousness. 

Juice was astounded when he woke. _Someone's pounding on the door._ It was dark outside. He had no idea what time it was, much less what day it was. His eyes focused on the dirty, dank carpet. A roach crawled across the brown shag, almost camouflaged. Juice lay there, transfixed by the tiny bug. _The last survivors on Earth_, he thought ironically. He was no better than the insect that forged a home by his side. _I should be dead. _

Another quick succession of hard knocks caused Juice to blink. His entire body felt like it'd been set aflame. His mouth was cracked and dry, and the sensation of broken glass and scalding kerosene filled his throat. He tried to prop himself up on his hands, but it was an impossible task. Pain stoked the flames of death within his chest.

The sound of keys jingling in the lock barely registered in his half-conscious mind. The gasp of the front desk clerk didn't matter. Her cries on the phone to the 911 operator were pointless. Juice knew now that he simply didn't deserve to live. As his heart stopped beating, he could feel his soul lighten. _I am free. _As he slipped away from the human world, he wondered why he'd feared this for so long.

There was nothing to be afraid of. As Death stealth began its assault, Juice Ortiz no longer worried about his last breath. Instead, he welcomed it.


	6. Chapter 6

"Mama! Come quick Mama! It's Tommy!" Abel's tiny voice cut through the night. Tara bolted upright in bed. It was strange having the cabin walls surrounding her. It made her feel disoriented, but her eyes and thoughts sharpened quickly with the sound of her son's cries. She flipped her legs over the bed and stood. Dizziness punched her in the head and gut, and as the room spun, she struggled to keep the contents of her stomach where they were.

"Mama! Please hurry!" The sound of a helpless Abel overcame the spinning room, and Tara rushed out and bolted across the hallway. She flung the door to the boy's room open. The crib was empty. Tears pricked Tara's eyes as their gaze darted to the window. It was closed. Panic clutched her chest in a tight, hard ball as she looked for her son.

"Look Mama, he's here!" Abel exclaimed. Tara turned in the direction of Abel's bed, which was behind her. Her heart almost exploded as she stared at the scene before her. _Oh my God, _she thought. _My boys. _

Abel sat in the center of his bed. His tiny body was illuminated in the moonlight. Thomas lay where she'd left Abel just a couple of hours ago. His blue eyes, eyes so like Jax's, stared at her. Tara neared the bed, and the tears that had welled in her eyes began to fall. Abel grasped Thomas' hand tightly as he beamed proudly at his mother.

"Tommy climbed outta his crib, Mama. He came to sleep with me!" Abel cried excitedly. The little boy's blue eyes danced as he stood up. "See Mama! I was a good big brother! I covered Tommy up so he wouldn't be cold, and I went and got his sippy cup from the 'frigerator, just like you do."

Tara sobbed. She came in expecting something terrible, and instead she found her boys doing what they did best: being brothers. Abel saw her crying, and his little brow furrowed. He grabbed his mother's hand and looked up at her.

"Did I do something wrong Mama?" Abel asked, terrified. Tears began to well up in his eyes as well. Tara reached down and scooped her son into her arms and hugged him tight. He hugged her back.

"No baby, no. You did a great thing. Mama just got scared when you yelled for me," Tara responded.

"Babe, is everything is okay?" Jax's sleepy voice filled the room. Tara turned to see her shirtless husband, clad only in an old pair flannel pants. His hair stuck up in crazy points. Abel began to giggle.

"Daddy, you look like Sonic," Abel laughed. Tara, unsure of what he meant at first, suddenly realized her son was referring to _Sonic the Hedgehog. _Happy had brought an ancient Sega over to the cabin, and Abel had been playing _Sonic_ for the last few days. It kept him busy when Tara was tending to Thomas or cooking or resting quietly on the couch, trying to coax her memory to life.

Tara glanced at Jax again, and she began to giggle too. The pointy, crazed blonde locks did resemble the little purple hedgehog. Jax entered the room and joined in the laughter, even though his sleep deprived body longed for his bed.

"What happened, Babe?" Jax asked, his eyes darted over to Thomas, who sat quietly in his brother's bed. Tara put Abel down and leaned into Jax's lean body. A protective arm wrapped around her waist.

"Our Thomas is an acrobat," Tara said softly. Love poured from her eyes as she watched Abel climb in bed with his younger brother. "He scaled his crib and climbed into bed with Abel."

"I covered him up and got his sippy Daddy!" Abel added, and Tara giggled.

"You're a great big brother," Jax said honestly as Abel beamed with pride. He let Tara go and crossed over to the boys. He sat on the edge of the bed. Abel smiled broadly at his father, as did Thomas. Both boys were the spitting image of their father, and Tara loved that. She'd always thought of herself as ordinary, and Jax's extraordinary good looks all but eclipsed any prettiness she might have had to offer. There still were days she wondered why he didn't choose those hot little Crow Eaters, because there were many that were stunningly beautiful.

Memories of Jax riding Collette rushed back, and every insecurity she had surfaced, but she swallowed the bitterness. Now was not the time or the place. She knew why Jax did what he did, and in the light of everything that had transpired since, that one transgression was a forgivable one. All she had to do was look at him with their sons, and she knew this was exactly where she needed to be.

"I guess we're gonna have to put the gates up and get a bed for this little monkey," Jax said as he tickled Thomas lightly. Their son giggled and stared up at Jax adoringly. Tara's heart stung a little; he baby was growing up. She couldn't believe how big Thomas was now. The boy grew like a weed, as did Abel, and she felt the familiar maternal pull of her emotions. _I want another baby with him. _She almost laughed out loud at the irony.

Less than a month ago, she'd been ready to leave him, to dive head first into Witness Protection. She was ready to turn rat to save her sons, and she wouldn't have even thought about having another child with Jax Teller. She knew better now. She knew he wanted to leave the club. She knew she wanted to save them all somehow, and she knew he would try his best. That was all that mattered to her now. Gemma's death was a turning point, and it made her realize what he meant to her, what _they_ meant to her.

She was his. She always would be. There was no turning away from it, no changing it. Whether Jax stayed or left, Tara knew that her future was a borrowed one, and she knew she belonged with them. She watched as Jax kissed their boys. He stood from their bed and left the room.

"I'll be right back," he said quickly. Within seconds, he was returned, a baby gate in hand. Tara stood, mouth agape, trying to figure out where it had come from.

"Gemma saved it," Jax explained, and Tara nodded. _Of course. _It made sense. _Gemma was always thinking of the boys. _Her gut wanted to collapse on itself again at the thought of her dead mother-in-law. Jax positioned the gate in the doorway and locked it into place. Tara didn't like the idea of Thomas in the bed with Abel, but Jax quickly comforted her.

"Babe, it's a toddler bed," he stated, gesturing towards Abel. She smiled in spite of herself. She'd forgotten for a moment that Abel still rested in a toddler bed while at the cabin. They hadn't brought a twin for him there. It still confounded Tara to have her baby out of a crib.

"Then we should get a big boy bed for Abel," Tara countered. Jax nodded. _A big boy bed. _Her heart skipped a beat. _They're growing too fast. _She stopped and said a silent prayer of gratitude. Fate had allowed her this moment, and as sad as it was for her, she was thankful for it.

"You're right. We have a toddler bed already, and the next logical step is a big boy bed. I guess we'll take the crib down." Jax stood on the other side of the gate and leaned against the doorframe.

"No, don't," she said softly.

"Babe, are you…?" Jax questioned, his eyes lighting up.

"No, I'm not," she said as she walked towards him, "But I think I would like to be, after all of this insanity calms down."

"As long as it is a favorable outcome," Jax returned, "I missed Thomas' birth because I was locked up. I won't do it again, Tara." She nodded in complete understanding. He kissed her forehead. She could hear his sharp inhale as he breathed her in. She closed her eyes and reveled in her husband.

_It will be a positive outcome, _she thought. _I am going to remember, and Patterson will get her pound of flesh. We will be safe. Finally safe. _She looked into his eyes. _He saved me. I have to return the favor. _She climbed over the gate and stood by Jax's side. They looked at their boys. Thomas had fallen asleep. Abel's eyes were wide open. He encircled Thomas' shoulders with his small arm. The sight took both Tara and Jax's breath away.

"I got this Mama. Daddy, go to bed. I'll make sure he's safe."

She felt Jax recoil at Abel's _I got this. _She remembered the tale of Opie's sacrifice, and she shuddered. Jax hid his pain well as he forced a big grin.

"You call us if Thomas needs a parent, okay buddy?" Tara said. Abel nodded.

"I'll scream the right way next time, so you're not scared," Abel answered, and Tara laughed. _He's such a smart, amazing little boy. I am so blessed to be his mama. _Jax squeezed Tara's shoulder, and they headed to their room. They laid in bed and stared at the ceiling as they entwined themselves in one another's arms.

"I love you, Tara," Jax whispered into the darkness. Tara pressed herself closer to him. Her eyelids were so heavy, and she couldn't fight the urge to fall asleep.

"I love you too, Jackson," she murmured as she slipped into dreams. Her heart began to race as her unconscious mind took over. It was the same scene she'd dreamt of for weeks now. She was in the kitchen, on the floor. She expected the same man to be standing next to her, but when she heard Gemma's voice, she froze.

"What the hell are you doing here?" Gemma questioned. Tara could hear the shakiness in her mother-in-law's voice. She could hear the nervous click of high heels as she walked on the wood floors. _She's pacing. _

"Are you going to answer me?" she asked. Silence filled the space. _No answer. _

"I didn't mean to do this," Gemma continued, not worried about the answer. "This was an accident. I just lost everything today: my son, my man, my grandsons. I came here, and there she was, the woman that started it all. In this house! _This house! _The bitch was turning rat, and she really thought she could come here, of all places?"

"She didn't turn rat, Gemma," a male voice explained calmly. Tara recognized it immediately. _Eli Roosevelt. _"Jax made a deal with Patterson so Tara didn't have to rat. He was turning himself in to save her and to save the club."

Another moment of silence, punctuated by nervous clicking heels. _Still pacing, Gemma? _

"What have I done?" she asked. It was then that Tara realized they thought she was dead.

"I have to call it in," Eli said slowly. More silence followed. Tara could hear the static rumble over the radio. "I have a…"

_Pop pop pop. _Three shots rang out in quick succession. Tara heard a body hit the floor. Gemma screamed. _Pop pop pop. _Three more. Gemma stopped screaming, but Tara could hear the older woman gasping for breath.

"What have you done, Gemma? What the hell have you done?" The question was so low, Tara wasn't sure she'd heard it. Gemma sobbed uncontrollably.

The phone was ringing. It vibrated against the nightstand as Tara fought to stay asleep. _I'm so fucking close! I just have to hear him again! _

"Babe, that's your phone," Jax stated sleepily. He turned on his side. Tara's eyes snapped open. She gritted her teeth in frustration and lightly pounded the mattress. She rolled over and grabbed the phone, not bothering to look at the number.

"Hello?"

"Tara? It's Margaret. I'm at St. Thomas. Dr. Christopher just asked me to call you. One of Jax's boys is in our ER. Overdose. You need to come now."

"What? Who is it?" Tara sat up in bed as she struggled to process the information.

"Juan Carlos Ortiz," Margaret answered. _Juice_.Tara sighed and pinched the bridge of her nose.

"Jesus Christ," Tara whispered into the phone.

"It doesn't look good Tara," Margaret continued. "Dr. Christopher told me he was asking for you."

"Me? Why? I don't know what he could possibly wa—"

"I don't either, Tara, but his vitals absolutely suck. I don't think he'll make it through the night. He's adamant he wants to see you."

"I'll wrangle up the boys. Jax and I will be down—"

"No Tara. No Jax. He wanted you and you alone." Tara's brow creased in confusion. "Don't bring Jax."

"Okay," Tara responded.

"See you soon," Margaret stated. She hung up.

"Jax, I have to go to St. Thomas."

"Aren't you on leave, Tara?" Jax's voice dripped with annoyance. He hated how St Thomas sometimes took precedent over his wife's peace and well-being.

"Yeah, but the case is a hard one, Jax. They need me." Jax grumbled under his breath.

"Alright, go. Just be careful."

"I will."

Tara stood and dressed quickly. She flew out the door and jumped in her car. As she careened into the night, she was struck by the inky blackness. There were no lights illuminate her way as she started the car. She backed down the driveway and drove off.

_The darkest hour always comes before the dawn. _Her mother used to talk about it, about the hour that came just before the sunrise. It was the time of night that brought the most despair. After being so close to knowing who shot Gemma, she felt a sense of hopelessness set in. _What if I never get there? _She thought of Jax in prison. She thought of her dreams, all but shattered. As the opaque night stretched out for miles in from of Tara, she tried to remain hopeful. She could only cling to that as she drove to St. Thomas. This moment was bad, but she would, eventually, remember. She just hoped it wasn't too late. She refused to give in or lose hope. _ I will get through this. I will remember. I will fucking win this time, and no one will be able to hurt me again_. Her mother instilled that determination in her, and it was fierce. She'd get through this moment, and she'd keep her family whole. After all, as her mother always reminded her moments like these weren't permanent. Eventually, a new day would come, and the darkness, as well as all the secrets and lies, would disappear.


	7. Chapter 7

"Thank you for coming Tara," Margaret Murphy murmured low. She smiled kindly up at Tara, who returned the kind gesture. They turned and slowly walked side-by-side down the long corridor. The petite red-headed administrator looked straight ahead towards the double doors that led to St. Thomas' Critical Care Unit.

"You're welcome," Tara returned. Her hazel eyes lingered on the tightly locked doors. "Can you tell me why I am here? I mean, I really shouldn't be, given everything that's…"

"Going on," Margaret finished. Tara nodded. Margaret sighed. She was sympathetic towards Tara's cause. Her mind wandered backwards to that now infamous night. She'd been home when she received the call. She had just finished loading the dishwasher when her cell buzzed in her pocket.

"Hello?" she said, exasperated. The hospital was annoying as hell sometimes. There was no time to be a wife or a mother; her every waking moment seemed to be absorbed in St. Thomas, and she was beginning to resent it more and more. She raked a semi-wet hand through her ginger hair as the other one gripped her phone.

"Margaret, it's Marie Christopher," the voice on the other end calmly. Margaret rolled her eyes. St. Thomas' newest ER physician was also quite the prima donna when she wanted to be. In the five months since Dr. Christopher's arrival, the ER had completely changed, and much of those changes could be attributed to the gorgeous, headstrong doctor. Margaret had been at the receiving end of many of the new physician's after hours tirades, and she simply wasn't in the mood for more.

"Yes, Marie, what can I do for you?" Margaret tried to maintain a sweet tone, but there was fire cutting her words. She couldn't help it. Marie Christopher made her skin crawl.

"I have a very bloody Tara Knowles in my ER." Typically, Margaret's blood would boil at the suggestion that the ER was anyone but hers, but the mention of Tara's name caused her blood to run ice cold. Flashbacks of she and Tara, tied back-to-back assailed her. She remembered Hector Salazar screaming at them. She remembered the glimmer of his gun as it pointed at them both.

_She saved me. _Margaret's brain ran away with thoughts unbidden. _She was pregnant with Thomas, and she saved me._ She knew this would happen. The last few weeks had been pure hell on her friend. She had tried so hard to escape the club, and she was so, so close. Margaret felt her throat catch at the prospect of a bloody Tara Knowles. _That goddamned club got her. _

"Margaret, are you listening to me?" Dr. Christopher's voice crackled over the line.

"Is...is Tara…" Margaret didn't want to say the word.

"She's alive, Margaret. She was beaten pretty good, but she's better than I expected after the call in we got. I expected her to be a DOA, but her mother-in-law got that distinction." Margaret's heart pounded with relief. _Tara is okay. She's not dead. She's alive. _She blinked and stared. _But Gemma is dead. _The mere thought was pure insanity.

Now, in the dark corridor outside CCU, Margaret laid eyes on Tara for the first time since that night. She hadn't gone to the funeral. It brought back too many memories of her own scandalous biker past, and she couldn't deal. She sent a spray of roses instead.

"Juice is his name, right?" Margaret asked.

"Juan Carlos sounds so formal," Tara returned. At first, she intended it as a joke, but the reality of his name set in: Juan Carlos was indeed too formal for the boy with the sweet smile. _Boy. _The word was the only one appropriate enough to describe Juice, even though he was the same age as she and Jax. They seemed light years apart. She couldn't believe she was here, alone, at his request.

Margaret nodded. "He's in terrible shape, Tara. Dr. Christopher was astounded he was alive, and truthfully, after what I read in his report, I am too. He had enough OxyContin to kill ten men."

"Jesus Christ," Tara whispered.

"Looks like there's fucked up crank in his system as well." Tara gaped at Margaret's colorful language. _Fucked up crank? Really, Margaret? _ It never ceased to amaze her. She smiled. _You can take the girl outta the biker gang, but you can't take the biker gang outta the girl. _ "Marie said that's what is contributing to his multiple organ failure."

"Marie?" Tara asked. Margaret sighed.

"Dr. Christopher," Margaret replied. The two women began walking towards the double doors. Margaret slid her ID through the scanner, and the doors flew open. They walked in and Margaret made a hard left. Juice was in the first bay; the curtain was partially pulled, and Tara winced as her eyes rested on the once sweet faced kid.

"Oh Juice," she said sadly. Her breath caught as she walked closer to him. He was asleep. He was a strange gray color, and Tara could see the signs of death creeping up his mottled hands. His lips were blue, and huge black circles shadowed his eyes. His cheeks, once plump with life and vitality, now appeared gaunt, and the sharp angle of his cheekbones cut into his cyanotic skin.

"I'll leave you alone with him, Tara," Margaret said quietly. Tara's nod was barely noticeable. "Call me when you're done. I'm sticking around." Again, Tara nodded. Margaret pulled the curtain closed as she left the room. Tara rested her hand on his, shocked at how frozen it felt to her touch.

"Juice?" Tara said gently. She squeezed his hand. His eyes, once a brilliant, beautiful brown, were hazy and unfocused. He glanced around the room before his eyes rested on Tara. A sad smile spread slowly across his lips as he clutched her hand.

"Hey doc," he whispered hoarsely.

"I'd ask how you're doing, but I already know," Tara talked to him like she talked to Abel. It was all about caring undertones and short sentences. "Why Juice? Why did you do this?"

Juice retained his boyish smile, but it was trapped in the face of a weary, haggard addict. It damned near broke her heart.

"I'd rather die by my own hand than the hand of your husband," Juice responded, and chills raced down Tara's spine. She had seen Jax kill. Stacks of dead bodies were etched on her soul, and some of those she had her husband to thank. Still, she didn't realize things had gone so badly between Jax and Juice. She was too caught up in trying to get out of Charming to worry about the strange subplots in her husband's club. Juice looked at Tara and shrugged slightly.

"Why would Jax-?" Tara began. She stopped when Juice held up his hand.

"It doesn't matter now," he said serenely. "We both know I'm living on borrowed time. Jax gets what he wants, after all, either by his hand or someone else's." Juice closed his eyes. Tara watched as he appeared to fall asleep again. She squeezed his hand once more. His eyes remained closed, but he began to speak.

"You must be wondering why I wanted you here," he said. Tara nodded, even though he couldn't see her do so.

"I wondered why you didn't want Jax here," she countered slowly. "But now that I know he wanted you dead, I—"

"It's not about that, Tara." His voice was low, so she grabbed a chair and sat. The closer proximity made it easier to hear him. "It's about you. I didn't want him here, because I wouldn't be able to say anything. You probably realize by now that your husband's presence fills the room before he even enters it. This life we're a part of, it's always about him and what he needs. This really has nothing to do with Jax Teller at all. I didn't see the need to ask him here, especially now."

Tara's forehead knitted in confusion. She didn't want to ask questions. She just wanted to listen.

"I saw you," he whispered brokenly. Tears flowed freely down his cheeks. His frigid hands shook as he continued on. "I saw you on the floor. I saw you covered in blood. I spoke to you as lay face down on the kitchen floor."

"I thought you were Jax," Tara returned. She was trembling as hard as he was. _Juice did this? _Tara closed her eyes and shook her head. _No. I refuse to believe that. I cannot believe that. _Her eyes scanned the monitors that recorded his every move, and the doctor in her took over. _Blood pressure was 80/70. Pulse was 54. The mottling is spreading over his elbows now. _She gritted her teeth. _Oh my God, _she thought. _He's actively dying. _

"I didn't kill them, Tara," Juice said slowly. Tara exhaled with relief. For a moment, she thought that was what he summoned her there for. Deathbed confessions were not her strong suit. _Just ask Otto, _her conscience cried. Memories of the suicidal SAMCRO biker screamed in her skull. She shivered.

"Do you know who did?" she questioned. Juice shook his head quickly.

"I wish I did." Juice's lips were darkening as they stretched into a tight line. "I came in after it was done. Whoever did it was long gone." Tara wanted to cry in frustration. Scared and uncomfortable, she scanned the room for a slight diversion. Her eyes spied a pair of black combat boots, and her mind flashed with recollections. _Those were the boots I saw. _

"I'm sorry, Tara," Juice croaked. _His was the voice I heard. _Her throat burned with unshed sobs.

Her mind raced with flashes of memories. _The pop of the gun_. _Gemma's screams. Eli's voice. _All the memories were ones she already knew, nothing new. _Just the same goddamned shit I already know! _Her fingers tightened around Juice's bedrails and scalding hot tears fell down her face.

"If you know nothing, then why did you ask me here?" Tara asked with more force than she intended. Her hazel eyes were blurry from crying, and her stomach churned with nausea. She quickly swallowed the urge to vomit. She closed her eyes and took a deep breath, but it did little to abate the sick feeling.

"I have to make things right, Tara," Juice's eyes, always so soulful, were fading. Tara scanned the monitors again. _Blood pressure 74/50. Pulse 16. _She was surprised Juice could even speak, much less speak so coherently. She shook her head as her eyes caught the sign above Juice's bed. Huge, red letters reading _DNR_ rested above Juice's head. _Do Not Resuscitate. _

"You signed a DNR, Juice?" Tara queried. Juice nodded.

"I don't want to live, Tara. Not without my club." His voice was flat and calm. His eyes were starting to droop. _There's not much time. _Tara inhaled deeply.

"Juice, I can talk to Jax, I—" Juice shook his head.

"Don't, Tara. It's too late. I'm okay with my choice." He reached out and squeezed her hand. His skin was arctic. "Do you have your phone?"

Tara nodded. She pulled it out of her pocket, unsure of why it was necessary.

"Get a nurse, a doctor, anyone. I need another witness," he instructed. His breathing was shallow. Tara rushed out to the hallway. Dr. Christopher and Margaret stood at the nurse's station. They looked as if they were in a heated conversation, but Tara didn't care.

"Margaret, can you come help me?" Tara called. Margaret left Dr. Christopher mid-sentence and walked almost eagerly to Tara. Together, they entered Juice's room. Tara drew the curtain tightly closed around them.

"Do you have a phone, Red?" Juice wheezed, his eyes glued to Margaret. She nodded, just as Tara did seconds ago.

"Take it out, Margaret. Please." Tara's urgent voice spoke. Margaret took it out.

"Film this," Juice ordered. Margaret and Tara turned their phones on. They both stood in front of Juice, eyes fixated on his face. He was now a strange shade of grayish blue, but he continued on.

"My name is Juan Carlos Ortiz. Yesterday, I injected my body with a lethal dose of OxyContin. I, as you can see, did not die, but it was only a short reprieve." A ironic smile spread across Juice's face. Tara opened her mouth to speak, but seeing Juice's labored breathing, she stopped.

"I want to die. I have turned on my club, and I deserve this punishment." Juice licked his lips at the end of the sentence. He was breathing like he'd run a sprint. Tears filled Margaret's eyes. Images of her long lost life gripped her heart and wouldn't let go. She struggled to keep the camera upright.

"You see, Jackson Teller wants me dead," he continued. Tara bit her tongue. His eyes stared straight at her as he spoke the next sentence. "I went against the club. For the last year, I have been running guns for the Byz Lats behind Teller's back. I am the one who obtained the KG-9s, and I am the one who placed them in the hands of Arcadio Nerona. His girlfriend Darvany is the mother of boy that shot that school up."

Tara couldn't breathe. She couldn't believe what Juice was saying. She didn't know the details of the school shooting, nor did she want to, but she also knew that the words leaving Juice's mouth were blatant lies.

"SAMCRO had no idea what I was doing. I told no one of my plans. I didn't want Jax as my president. Without Clay, I chose other options. Jackson learned of what I was doing after Arcadio and Darvany took off," Juice stated. His eyelids were falling, but he still managed to look at Tara and Margaret. "And he made no secret of his hatred for me. I fled to Stockton, where I checked in a motel and wondered what the fuck to do with myself. I knew Jax might turn me in—or just kill me. I just beat him to it."

A beautiful smile glossed over Juice's features as tears filled his eyes.

"Jackson, I am sorry for betraying you. Tell Chibs I love him." The confession was over. He gasped for air. Tara handed her phone to Margaret as she rushed to his side. She glanced at the monitors. His blood pressure plummeted, as did his pulse, and they weren't reading on the screen. Tara lost her breath as her fingers skimmed his throat in search for the pulse. It was barely there. She reached for the oxygen by Juice's bedside.

"Don't Tara," he whispered. Those brown eyes begged, and she listened.

"Juice, please…" She began to weep. They'd never been close. Never. But their lives were destined to flow into one another, and she couldn't help but remember him in better days.

"Just hold my hand, Tara," he croaked. "I just don't want to die alone."

Tara found Juice's hand and held it gently. She ran a hand over his head. She continued rubbing, and a faint smile etched his face. She smiled sadly.

The monitors screamed as Juice's heart stopped. Tara squeezed Juice's hand tightly.

"He's going into cardiac arrest," a strident voice filled the room. Margaret turned.

"Yes, Dr. Christopher, he is. He's a DNR, as you know."

"Yes, Margaret, I am well aware of _that._ Someone has to call the time of death. Who's the doctor here, you or me?" The physician rested her hands on her hips and glared at the administrator.

"Both of you: shut the fuck up." Tara's voice was stone cold. "This man is dying, and I will not let your bitchiness be the last thing he hears before he leaves this Earth. You can call it when he's dead. As of this second, Juan Carlos Ortiz is still breathing, if only barely."

Marie Christopher was speechless. She opened her mouth to speak, but Tara's hazel eyes were fire as she stared at the doctor. Tara turned her attention back to Juice as the sound of a flatlining heart filled the air. She wept freely, unashamed of her tears. She gasped as she felt his fingers tighten slightly around hers.

Then he was still. There was no breathing, no movement, no words. More importantly, there were no worries, no pain, and no sadness. Juice was free. Marie moved behind her, shutting the loud machines off. There was silence. Margaret didn't move; she just stood at the end of the bed, convinced she was seeing a ghost.

"Time of death: 12:27 am." Dr. Christopher's voice was low as she wrote the time of death in Juice's chart. Tara pulled her fingers carefully from his. She wiped the tears from her eyes as she walked towards Margaret. Wordlessly, she returned Tara's cell.

"You know how to find me," Margaret reminded her, "When you're ready."

Tara knew what she meant. She watched Margaret slide her phone in her pocket. It amazed her how they could speak without exchanging words. She nodded awkwardly as guilt assaulted her. She wanted to stay. She wanted to hold his hand a moment longer. She wanted him to know he had a purpose, but it felt like a lie. It felt wrong. Juice was a man. He was SAMCRO, and at the end, he died for that club. Other than that, what legacy was left behind? Just one of carnage and senseless death, nothing more. He wasn't like Jax or Chibs or Bobby or even Tig; they all had children. He had nothing. There was no one outside of the club she'd have to call. Her heart was broken, but it would do no good to stay and watch as Juice was zipped into a body bag. Without a backward glance, Tara walked past her boss and left Juice's room. Her sneakers squeaked slightly as she walked down the hallway.

Her soul was bruised all to hell. The moments she just witnessed—Juice's final moments—were horrific, but what hurt more was that she was leaving St. Thomas with more questions than she'd come in with. She was no closer to finding Gemma and Eli's killer, and to top that off, Juice unleashed a Pandora's Box of secrets that made no sense.

The night air felt good on her skin as she walked to the car. She climbed in and clasped her seatbelt shut, and as she cranked the car to life, she knew what her next move needed to be.

Charming was so quiet at night. There was no noise, no tremble of life. Everything pretty much shut down at ten and didn't wake again until seven the next morning. It had been that way her entire life, and now, more than ever, she welcomed it. It helped her clear her mind, and she definitely needed it. She drove slowly down the streets, letting her memories find her. As she drove, she let the smiles and the tears fall where they needed to. It felt good to drive alone. She hadn't done it since that night, and she didn't realize how much she missed it.

She sighed as she drove down the most familiar street of all, and her heart felt heavy as she pulled into the driveway. _I'm home._ The lights were out; not even the porch light remained on. The grass was in desperate need of cutting, and the shrubs definitely needed some tender loving care. She cut the car off, determined to not let her throbbing heartbeat or sweaty palms deter her. She stepped out of the car and walked towards her front door. She hesitated for a moment as her fingers grasped the doorknob, and when she turned it, she was shocked to see the door open.

_No one bothered to lock it. _The thought should have scared her, but it didn't. All she could think of was the memories the place held. Pictures of Jax and Abel and Thomas flooded her psyche, as did the ghosts of Clay and Opie and Donna. A chill covered her body as she stepped inside, but she accepted it. Tara knew that to remember, she'd have to resurrect all the ghosts that hid both in her mind and in her old house, no matter what it brought in return.


	8. Chapter 8

Tara flicked the light switch. The room was filled with a soft glow that she'd all but forgotten. Everything looked the same; the boys' toys were scattered across the living room. The couch looked as comfortable as ever. Tara walked slowly, taking in the place she called home. Part of her loved being here, but her pounding heart and her racing brain reminded her of why she'd been at the cabin so long.

_Gemma wanted me dead. _Tara closed her eyes. She took a few short breaths as she tried to collect herself. Her fingers gripped the back of the couch. For a moment, her chest felt as if it would explode, but the shallow breathing helped. She placed her purse on the couch, just as she had the night of Gemma's murder. The gravity of the movement wasn't lost on her.

_I'll recreate my steps. _She smiled. _I'll remember better if I am back in the moment. _She inhaled deeply. _I'll remember what happened. I will._ She stood by the couch a second longer, then she advanced towards the kitchen. The strong smell of bleach burned her nose as she reached for the light switch. Light illuminated the room. _It's perfect. _The hardwood floor was gleaming. The counters were spotless. If Tara hadn't known better, she would have never known anything had ever happened.

"I knew you would be back." Tara's skin prickled with goosebumps. The familiar voice spoke softly; there was no malice, no intimidation. The observation was a simple one; if anything the voice was filled with resignation. Still, Tara stiffened. It was a natural reflex.

"Wendy, what are you doing here?" Tara turned and faced her husband's ex-wife. Dressed in a loose fitting white peasant blouse and skin tight bell-bottom jeans, even Tara had to admit she looked good. Her long honey colored locks hung loose and cascaded in soft waves down to her hips. She leaned against the wall, hands in her pockets, and stared at Tara with her sharp, almost ebony eyes.

"Hiding out," Wendy responded simply. "I'm supposed to be in rehab, thanks to you."

"Thanks to me?" Tara questioned. "Are you out of your mind?" Wendy smiled and uncrossed her arms. Her hand now rested on her hip.

"Yes, thanks to you," Wendy countered. She stood upright and walked towards Tara. Even though her heart pounded, she stood her ground. Wendy was within a few inches of her.

"Your lies made me relapse. Your bullshit made me question everything I'd come to terms with. When I came back to Charming, I came back to see my son, to maybe have a chance of being with him. In the time since then, I have conspired with you to get custody of the boys. I've gone against the club, against Gemma, against every single person in Abel's family in the hope that you would help me."

Tara leaned against the counter in order to put distance between them. Wendy, noticing this, backed up.

"My lies didn't make you relapse, Wendy. You did that all on your own." Tara's voice took on a coldness she didn't expect. "Maybe if you spent less time blaming everyone around you and took more time getting well, you'd have your son in the way you wanted."

A frigid laugh erupted from Wendy's lips. She crossed her arms under her breasts and locked narrowed eyes on the other woman.

"I love how you look down on me, Tara. Do you realize what chaos you live in? I mean, in the time I was away, Abel was kidnapped. You were almost killed by Clay and Gemma almost killed _both_ boys and herself. When I attempted to get my son back, his wonderful, beautiful father injected me with a speedball and brought back the wounds of addiction. Do you think for one second that I started this on my own? Fuck you. Fuck you and that bastard husband of yours."

Tara stood upright in an effort to breathe. _Jax injected Wendy with heroin? _Her soul collapsed under the weight of that knowledge. Her heart pounded mightily within her chest, and she walked across the kitchen. She walked to the kitchen table, pulled a chair and sat down. Wendy's words made her head spin. Wendy didn't move. She maintained her confrontational stance.

"Yet when you needed help, I was there, Tara. When jail seemed to be your future, I lied like hell to help you. I had no reason to help you, but I had every reason to help Abel, and I did."

"Wendy, I…" Tara stammered. Wendy held up a hand.

"What Tara? What? I didn't want my son to go into the Witness Protection Program, and as much as I hated Jax, I didn't want you turning on the club. It's all Jax had; it's all Abel had, and if you're honest with yourself, Tara, it's all Thomas has too. You were taking that from them. I knew that, once I was in that lockdown facility, I would never see my son again."

"The only thing I took from them was the violence, Wendy," Tara whispered. "It was too dangerous to stay. I did what I had to do."

"So why aren't you in Witness Protection?" Wendy asked. Tara blinked. She ran her hands over the worn denim of her jeans as she rocked back and forth. "Why aren't you protecting those boys now?"

Tara had to admit, Wendy asked a good question. She'd been so focused on finding Gemma's killer and healing from her mother-in-law's attack that she thought little of what could happen _after_. _What if Jax doesn't leave SAMCRO? Will I be back in jail one day? Will he? Will we end up dead? What about my boys? What happens to them?_ Tara began to cry. _I let my love for you cloud my judgment, Jax. Again. _Sobs racked her body.

"I don't know," Tara hiccupped. It was an honest response.

"I know why," Wendy responded softly. She walked towards Tara and squatted down in front of her.  
"I know better than you think I do." She grasped Tara's hands.

"Do you?" Tara countered. Wendy nodded.

"I'm not in rehab," Wendy said.

"What does that have to do with anything?" Tara asked through gritted teeth.

"I didn't get there. I couldn't go there and no say goodbye to Abel. I couldn't go knowing I'd never see my son again. I left before I ever checked in."

Tara's mind tried to wrap itself around Wendy's words, but nothing she was saying made any sense. Wendy stood and turned away from her, pacing as she did so. Her hands were on her hips as she walked. Tara watched as Abel's mother wore holes in her hardwood floors.

"You see, Tara, we all have a mission in this life. For a long time, I thought mine was to be a fuck up. God knows, I was good at it." Wendy looked up at the ceiling as she walked. "You were meant to heal people. That's why you are a doctor."

"Wendy, I can't heal anyone anymore." Wendy stopped and looked at Tara. She twisted a lock of hair around her index finger. It was strange movement, and Tara wondered if Wendy realized she was doing it.

"I noticed." Wendy's response was cold as it fell on Tara's ears. "I always thought that made you better than me; you know, the MD behind your name. But you fell just like I did, except with a different addiction."

"It does make us different…" Tara said slowly, allowing her voice to trail off.

"No, it doesn't, Tara. Those letters don't mean a goddamned thing when you're under Jax Teller's spell. You have degree after degree, but we are no different. We both love Jax. We both love the club, even if you won't admit that to yourself. You do. We are driven by this fucked up sense of loyalty. I accepted it long ago. You haven't."

"Then why aren't you in rehab, Wendy? If you know this place is poison, why aren't you getting better, so you can take Abel from me, from the club?" Wendy shook her head as her eyes filled with emotion.

"I came back to say goodbye, Tara. I came here to look at my son one last time, to say goodbye to him before you whisked him into a normal life, a life I would never be a part of. I came here and sat in his room, waiting for you to show up."

Tara stared at Wendy, mouth agape. She was speechless. _She was here that night too?_ The thought was too much to bear.

"I rocked in that old glider rocker and waited. I saw Eli's car bring you home. I heard the door shut," Wendy explained. "I didn't know what to say. Here I was, an intruder in this house, sitting like a stalker in Abel's room. All the bravery I had was gone. It was gone."

Wendy began to shake. Tara watched as Wendy placed her hands on the countertop. She lowered her head. Tara wanted to get up, to comfort her, but she wasn't sure what she was comforting her for.

"I heard the door shut again," Wendy recounted. "I was terrified. I'd told her I'd go to rehab. If she knew I left, there's no telling what she would do."

Tara's heartbeat hammered in her ears. _She was here. She was here. She was here. _She kept repeating it over and over again in her head. _Wendy was here. _

"I heard screams. Some were yours and some were Gemma's. It happened so quickly, I didn't know what to do. I went into your room."

"Why would you do that?" Tara's voice didn't sound like her own. It sounded hollow and distant, like someone else.

"Believe it or not, Jax is predictable. I knew where his guns were."

"Top of the closet, in the wooden box," Tara murmured. She knew that hiding place well. Tara actually tried to run there herself, but Gemma had stopped her.

"The one that JT gave him," Wendy finished. Tara nodded. "I was relieved to see it there. I grabbed it and walked out to the living room. Eli was standing between me and the kitchen, and that's when I saw you on the floor, bloody and dead."

Tara fought back the urge to vomit. Her stomach rumbled and growled. She felt dizzy, even though she was still sitting. Her hands were cold and clammy as she clenched and unclenched them.

"Eli said he was going to call it in. I saw Gemma standing there, and she saw me." Wendy's voice was breaking. A torrent of tears fell down her face. "The SAMCRO instinct kicked in. I shot Eli Roosevelt. There was no hesitation."

"How could you do that Wendy? You're not a killer." Tara was dumbfounded. To her knowledge, Wendy never hurt anyone. It wasn't in her blood to kill. _It's not in my blood either,_ she thought sadly. _But I've killed. I've murdered. All in the name of SAMCRO._

"I don't know, Tara," Wendy said honestly. "Gemma kept looking at me. She stared holes through me."

"What happened next Wendy?" Tara asked. Wendy stood straight and tall as she turned to meet Tara's eyes. Rivers of mascara streaked her face. She didn't bother wiping them away.

"Eli fell to the ground," Wendy began. "He was dead. I was disgusted with myself. I dropped the gun and sat on the coffee table. I was scared to death. Gemma walked over to me and hugged told me she didn't know why I was here, but she was glad I was. She thanked me, told me she was proud of me." Tara couldn't handle those words. The contents of her stomach boiled and trailed up her throat. She stood and retched in the garbage can. Her belly emptied of its contents, she stood. Vertigo took over, and it caused her to stumble. Wendy rushed to her side and caught her before she fell.

"Tara, sit," Wendy said quietly. Tara met her eyes. They were genuinely concerned. It never ceased to amaze her, this relationship she had with Wendy. One moment, they were ready to tear one another's throats out; the next, they cared for the other. Tara silently wondered if they would ever have a normal relationship. She wondered if they could parent Abel together. She didn't know if they could.

"What happened after that, Wendy?"

"I asked Gemma what happened. She said she'd found you like this, and that Eli overreacted." Tara gritted her teeth and shook her head.

"That's when I confronted her and told her I heard you two fighting," Wendy continued. "She still denied it. When I questioned her again, she got pissed. She started talking about how she could trust no one, how we were all trying to take the club down."

"That's Gemma, paranoid until the end," Tara noted.

"I tried talking to her logically. She wasn't having it. She started pacing and talking to herself. When that didn't work, I tried reasoning with her and told her that we had to leave. I told her the cops were probably on their way. She agreed. She said she would leave. She told me to grab her bag from the hallway, and I did. When I came back, she met me. With the gun."

Tara wasn't surprised. It sounded exactly like something Gemma would do.

"I expected her to shoot me," Wendy said. "I expected her to run and leave me to blame. I expected a lot of different scenarios."

"Well, you're still here," Tara said matter-of-factly. "In fact, no one even questioned where you were over the last few weeks." Wendy looked down. She seemed ashamed. When she looked back up, Tara saw tears glistening in her eyes.

"I happened to be on the right side of Gemma's anger. I'd saved her life and killed the sheriff. In one fell swoop, I protected her, the club, and her boys. She thought you dead, as did I. There was nothing for either one of us to lose at that point." Tara sighed and shook her head. _What I wouldn't give to have been able to talk that night. What I wouldn't have given to sit up, to let them know I was alive. _

"She told me to go," Wendy finished. "She told me to get the fuck out and to get to rehab. She said she'd explain the sheriff. That I would be free. All I would have to do was walk away. She would take care of it all. She told me not to look back. She told me the boys would be here when I got back."

"So you left? You left Eli, bleeding out? You left me behind, without checking if I was alive or dead? You just took Gemma's word for it?"

"_You looked dead, Tara," _Wendy emphasized. "You weren't moving. You didn't look like you were breathing. I have this crazy bitch, _the bitch that almost killed you_, pointing a gun at me, telling me to get the fuck out. And I just killed Eli. Do you think I would be able to recover from that? I cut my losses. You would've done the same."

Tara shook her head. She refused to believe that she would have cut her losses. She didn't want to think she'd be anything like Wendy, given the same situation.

"So you went to rehab? Just like that?" Tara was incredulous. Wendy shook her head.

"I tried to leave. I was on my out the door when it swung open. I thought it was the cops. I thought Gemma and I were caught. I thought we'd both be heading to prison; Gemma for killing you, and me for killing Eli."

"It wasn't the cops?" Tara asked. _How long could it have possibly taken for them to get there?_

"No," Wendy responded. "It wasn't Charming PD. It wasn't Eli's guys. I didn't expect anyone else, honestly. I was shocked when…"

"When what, Wendy?" Tara's mouth was dry, and her throat begged for water. She ignored the sensation as her eyes scanned Wendy's face.

"When Wayne walked in. He came to check on her, and he wasn't alone."

"Who was with him?" Tara asked. Part of her, the part of her that remembered that day better than she realized, knew the answer. She heard the voice in her ears, and her dormant memories were resurrected back to life. Tara squeezed her eyes shut as her pulse jumped. She knew the next name better than she knew her own. It was his voice that brokenly questioned her. It was his voice that broke as he learned the truth. It was his voice that rang in her ears as the shots fired into Gemma's skull. It was the sound his heartbroken tears that made her break down. She buried her face in her hands as it all came back. She remembered. She remembered everything.

"It was Nero, Tara. Wayne brought Nero with him."


	9. Chapter 9

"Wayne…and Nero?" Tara's voice formed the question, even though her brain already gave her the answer. Wendy nodded in affirmation. Her belly rumbled again as she closed her eyes. She inhaled deeply, trying to keep the nausea at bay. It didn't work. She rose again and ran to the garbage can. She emptied the contents of her stomach once more, as Wendy stared at her.

"Are you getting sick?" Wendy asked candidly. Tara's hazel eyes were fiery as they stared at her counterpart. She stood and walked over to the sink. She turned the water on and washed her hands. She turned the water to cold and splashed some of it on her face. She grabbed some paper towels and wiped her hands, then she pressed the towel to her mouth.

"No, I'm not getting sick." Wendy's eyebrows raised in question, and Tara rolled her eyes and groaned. "No, I'm not pregnant either! I think my body can't stand any more shock," Tara countered. In the last few hours, she'd watched Juice confess untruths, watched him die, and she came home for some answers, which she found in Wendy. Still, the last thing she'd expected were confessions and memories to resurface. Her stomach was always the first betrayer when she was upset, and this time, it was no exception.

Wendy nodded. She understood. Her stomach had been a wreck since Gemma's death, as had the rest of her. Her hands still shook. She wondered if they'd ever stop. She'd been clean since that night, but her body still craved the heroin she was running from. Wordlessly, she tucked her shaky hands neatly into the pockets of her jeans, content to forget about them for the moment. Tara looked as bad Wendy felt. She watched as Tara quietly walked back to the kitchen table and sat. Her huge hazel eyes stared holes into Wendy's soul.

"What happened when they came?" Tara asked. Wendy had no idea she remembered anything yet. As it stood, she only knew what she heard. She needed Wendy's eyes to see. She needed to know that her addled brain wasn't playing tricks on her. She needed to know what she heard was true. Wendy's dark eyes looked deep and vacant as she stared at the floor. Tara immediately knew that her mind was recreating the scene, that she saw everything just as she had that night.

"I didn't expect them to come," Wendy began. "And I think they were just as surprised to see me. I mean, the last Wayne saw, I was going into the rehab facility. I hadn't seen Nero in days…but that moment was full of things I didn't account for. I should've known better. I should've known that coming here would only bring insanity and chaos." She stood still for a moment, and she met Tara's eyes.

"You didn't know what was going to happen," Tara said gently. "You had no idea. You came here to say goodbye to Abel."

"Yes. Yes, I did," Wendy said absently. Her voice was barely above a whisper. Her hands had ceased their crazed movement. "I just needed my son. That's all I needed."

"I can understand that." Tara rubbed her hands together. She was suddenly freezing.

"I think they were just as shocked to be there as I was," Wendy said quietly. "They were definitely shocked to see me, but once Wayne saw you, it was like I wasn't even there."

Tara could hear Wayne's voice ringing in her ears.

"What the hell have you done, Gemma?" The tears made Wayne's voice crack. He was met with silence. Tara gritted her teeth. _Of course, Gemma. Of course. The minute you're caught you shut the fuck up. _She remembered how her skull ached as she tried to move.

"Wayne, we have to go," Wendy said. Her voice bubbled with fear.

"You're not leaving Wendy," Nero's voice filled the tense air.

"I didn't know what to do, Tara," Wendy said, breaking Tara's reverie. "He stood in front of me. Not Gemma. Me. Wayne grabbed Gemma. She'd tried to run, but he stopped her. I expected her to deck him and to run, but she stopped. She didn't fight him. She just stood there, silent."

Tara laughed. It was a harsh, bitter sound. "Gemma was silent?" Wendy nodded.

"Wayne kept yelling at her, asking her why. He told her that Jax was going to prison to protect the club. He told her you didn't have to die. He was crying. I swear to God, Tara…it was the most pitiful sound I've ever heard."

Tara remembered that sound. It was gut-wrenching.

"You can't even fucking answer me, even now," Wayne's voice trembled. He sounded resigned. Tara had never heard him sound so resigned.

"I'd answer you if I had an answer," Gemma whispered. Her voice was gravel. It was raspy and strained. "But I don't have one. I don't have a fucking answer."

"Of course you don't, Gemma," Nero's voice was thick with disgust. "You just rip everything apart and expect it to magically come back together when you need it to."

"Nero, stop," Wendy whispered.

"No, I won't stop," Nero said firmly, "Her son is exactly the same way! Jax Teller, the goddamned King of Charming spawned from the Queen Bitch herself! The man that kills on a whim, regardless of the consequences. The man that thinks life is just careless chance! I wonder where the fuck he got that from?"

"Nero!" Wayne yelled, but Gemma's lover went on.

"What Wayne? What?! You're going to protect her, just like you always do, and she's going to protect Jax, like she always does."

"Nero, I…" Gemma stammered. "Please understand, I…"

"There's nothing to understand, Gemma!" Nero screamed. "Look at what you've done!"

"I'd never seen Nero like that," Wendy whispered. Tara stopped retreating into her own memories. Wendy sat down next to her. She was burying her face in her hands, and her long dirty blonde hair hung like a curtain in front of her face. _I have to listen, _she thought calmly. _Focus, Tara. _

"Like what?" Tara queried.

"Enraged. He looked like hell, Tara. His eyes were wide and bloodshot, like he'd been crying. He walked towards you like he was in a trance. He didn't speak. He just…he just…"

"Knelt beside me," Tara finished. "He knelt beside me and stroked my hair. He told me he was sorry. He was crying." Tara felt as if she'd been kicked in the gut. Her breath came in short, quick gasps. She stared at the table, unable to believe the jumble of emotions that resonated within her. Wendy reached out and grasped Tara's hands and nodded.

"We all were, Tara, even Gemma," Wendy said.

"Gemma was crying over me?" Tara countered.

"If I'm honest with myself, and with you, I would say I don't know to that question. I think she was crying because you were dead. I think she was crying because her life, as she knew it, was over. That's why she tried to run."

Tara's heart hammered against her sternum. "She tried to run?" Wendy nodded.

"She tried to bolt out the door. Wayne grabbed her." Tara exhaled heavily. _Just when I thought you had a soul, you stupid bitch. Thank you Gemma, for tricking me again. _

"She pushed him. It was just strong enough to knock him over." Wendy's voice was thick with her memories. Tara removed her hands from Wendy's and stood. She walked away and stood by the sink. She leaned heavily against it and stared at the place where she'd laid just weeks before. If she closed her eyes, she could smell the blood and death. She could feel the weight of Nero hands on her shoulder. Flashes of the broken man, the man at Gemma's funeral, blurred her vision.

"I'm sorry, Tara. You didn't deserve this." Tara heard the broken baritone resonate in her ears. If she tried hard enough, she could feel his tears slip on to her skin. She could feel her fingers curl as she tried to turn over. Her heart pounded against harder within the confines of her ribs. Her entire world began to spin around. She squeezed her eyes shut. Her breath was shortening.

_Pop pop pop. _The gunshots rang out in the air. Wendy's scream echoed off the walls. She would always remember that sound. She'd always remember Wayne's plaintive cry. _This is the first time I have ever wished I was dead, _she thought. _If I were dead, I wouldn't have to remember that sound. _

"I didn't have a choice. She had to die." Tara's eyes opened. She was panting. Her lungs felt full of cotton. Wendy stood in front of Tara. Her face was soaked with tears and shame.

"I had no choice, Tara." Wendy stood straight. "She was just going to keep hurting people. That's what she did. She just kept hurting. Her fucked up morals and values were going to kill us all. They poisoned JT and Clay. You can't deny the grip they have on Jax…"

"You killed Gemma?" Tara croaked. She couldn't believe it.

"Yes, I did," Wendy stated.

"I don't understand," Tara returned.

"She was trying to run," Wendy said slowly. "I had to stop her. When I saw her push Wayne, I knew she was going to get away with…killing you."

"But I…"

"You weren't dead. I know. But I knew that, if she ran, she'd eventually come back. She'd lie her way back into Jax's life, and she'd get to my son."

"But how…"

"The gun. I'd dropped it a few feet away from Eli's body. When I saw her break free, I grabbed it, and I didn't think. I pulled the trigger. She fell to the floor. The bullet went through her skull."

Tara's body shook as she gasped for air. Her entire body felt hot as she struggled to breathe. She remembered the feeling. It was exactly what she felt as she fought Gemma. The sensation was identical to being suspended under the water.

"Tara, are you okay?" Wendy's voice was filled with concern. Tara barely registered the sound as she sank to the floor.

"Tara? Oh my God, Tara…" Wendy looked helplessly around the room. Tara sat against the cabinets. Her face was stark white. Her hazel eyes stared blankly out at Wendy. Wendy didn't hesitate. She ran to Tara's bag and searched through it. The phone was in a small pocket inside. It was one of Jax's burners. Wendy didn't care; she picked it up and dialed 911.

"Charming 911, what is your emergency?"

"Please, come quick," Wendy's voice echoed through the kitchen. "She can't breathe. She can't breathe." Wendy knelt by Tara. The doctor's eyes began to flutter and roll backwards in their sockets.

"Who can't breathe, ma'am?" the operator asked.

"Tara Knowles. 1227 Banks Street. Charming. Please hurry." Wendy hung up the phone and knelt by Tara's side. Tara was unconscious. Terrified, Wendy placed her hand on Tara's chest. She felt Tara's heart hammer beneath her fingers. Tara's breath was raspy, but she was breathing. Wendy exhaled a sigh of relief.

"I know you understand, Tara," Wendy whispered. "I know you do. I couldn't let her win. I couldn't let her hurt our sons. You have a chance to get out of all of this. I never did. I know you would've done the same, if you'd been in my shoes."

Sirens blared in the distance. Wendy's hands began to shake again. The trembled fiercely as she stroked Tara's hair. As the ambulance neared, Wendy knelt and kissed Tara's forehead. There had been a time she hated Tara Knowles. When she wanted to turn to Witness Protection, Wendy questioned the motives, but now, kneeling on the kitchen floor, she understood. There was nothing good about Charming. There was nothing good about SAMCRO. Too many demons rested within this place, and maybe Tara would have a chance to free her son. She knew it was far too late to save her own soul.

"Just get out of here, Tara. Please." The words were her last to Tara before snuck out the backdoor. She ran out of the backyard and rushed down the street. Once she felt safely out of view, she turned and looked back. The lights of the ambulance glittered against the black sky. Blue and red reflected off the windows of the place she'd once called home. Her legs ached from running, so she sat down on the sidewalk and waited.

It seemed like an eternity before the gurney came out, and when Wendy spotted it, she felt tears spring to her eyes. The back of the gurney sat slightly up, and an open-eyed Tara was tucked safely within a tightly gathered sheet. An oxygen mask covered her face, but the doctor was very much alive. Wendy began to cry as she looked up at the sky.

"Thank you, God," she whispered as she wept. Crying seemed all she knew how to do these days. She hadn't really stopped since she blew Gemma's brains out. Crying was easier than sleeping, because horror was all she could see as she slept. She saw Wayne's face collapse as Gemma's brains splattered onto the floor. Her hands hurt like hell as she tightly gripped the gun. It was so different killing Gemma. With Eli, she felt guilt, but she did it to protect the club. With Gemma, there was no guilt.

She felt Gemma's bony hand gripping her throat while she recovered from Abel's birth. She remembered the hell she put her through. She remembered bad moment they shared. She remembered the hold she had over Jax. The strings Gemma pulled to get where she was made Wendy physically ill. She wanted more for Abel. She wanted more Jax. She wanted more for Thomas and Tara and Wayne and Nero. The only way that was going to happen was if Gemma no longer existed.

"I did what I had to do," she whispered into the night. She closed her eyes and remembered Gemma's body. She remembered the gun falling to the floor again. Hands grabbed her arms.

"C'mon mama, let's go," Nero's voice was calm as he drew her away. She looked over her shoulder. Wayne had stood by Gemma, shell-shocked at what had transpired.

"Wayne! We have to go!" Nero's voice broke his stare, and the former Charming Chief followed, dazed and confused. Together, they piled into Nero's car and sped away. He dropped Wendy back at her apartment. The plan was to take Wayne back to TM later. Once inside the familiar walls of her home, Wendy broke down. It was over, but it didn't feel over.

_That's why I came back. Every single night I came back. I knew she'd be here eventually. _Once everything had been investigated and cleaned, she went back to the house. She realized now that she needed closure with Tara to be okay. Somewhere deep down, she knew Jax's wife would be back. She just didn't expect it to be so soon.

Tara's gurney was placed in the ambulance. Wendy watched as one of the EMTs tapped the back doors of the vehicle, giving it clearance to leave. Wendy stood and watched it drive into the night. She dug into her pocket and grabbed Tara's phone. She slid it into her pocket after she'd called the ambulance. Now, she opened it and dialed out. The strange pulse of the ring flooded her ears. A familiar baritone echoed through the speaker.

"Hi, it's Wendy. I need your help. Can you come get me?" An affirmative answer made her smile. She nodded and shut the phone. Twenty minutes later, when an old car roared down the street, she knew she'd be okay. The lights were shut off as it idled. Wendy dropped the phone in the grass and walked towards the car. The guilt and agony and shock of the last few weeks faded away with every step she took towards the car. For the first time in a long time, Wendy Case was free.


	10. Chapter 10

No matter how many hours she spent at St. Thomas, Tara would never be a good patient. She knew too much about the inner workings of the hospital, but what made it even worse was the entire staff treating her like she was some sort of princess in scrubs. She hated the attention, and as she sat in the confines of the ICU, she truly realized how little she enjoyed it.

She was so tired. Her lungs ached in a way they'd never ached before. Even with oxygen pushing into her nose, she struggled to catch her breath. She'd only been there a couple of hours, but in that time, they'd run test after test. The only thing left to do was a CT scan, and it seemed like she'd been waiting for an eternity for it.

"Where is my wife?" Tara flinched as the words reverberated through the ICU's locked doors. Jax was yelling. She wondered how long they kept him waiting. Judging from his reaction, he'd probably been there for a while. The Jax Teller Tara knew didn't act like that, not without a damned good reason. Crazy, angry outbursts had always been Gemma's territory.

_Gemma. _Her name bounced over and over again within Tara. _Wendy killed Gemma. And Nero and Wayne watched. _If she could sigh, she would, but it took too much effort. _How am I going to explain this to Jax? _She didn't know how he'd react. _Will he try to find them? And if he does, will he kill them? _She didn't want that on her conscience any more than she wanted the secret of Gemma's death. It was an impossible decision to make. Her mind tried valiantly to work the way she wanted it to, but the combination of medicine and illness was too great, and her mental faculties turned to mush.

A loud crash of ICU doors filled the hallway, and Tara closed her eyes. As they snapped back open, Tara watched as her husband ran towards her. The sharp squeal of Jax's white sneakers jolted her, and she could hear the monitors jump in response. Carefully, Jax slid the half open curtain all the way back. She heard Jax's sharp intake of breath as he laid eyes on her. She turned her head towards him, a slight smile on her face.

"Mr. Teller," Jackie Kelly, one of the best ICU nurses she'd ever worked with, followed Tara's red-faced, infuriated husband. "Mr. Teller, you can't—"

"I can't what?!" The last word of the sentence was pushed through gritted teeth. The sight of her flannel wearing, hard bodied, totally exasperated husband would scare anyone. To Tara's surprise and quiet admiration, Jackie Kelly, all four feet, ten inches of her, stood her ground.

"Speak to me like that again, Teller," she said softly. Tara's eyebrows raised as she tried to suppress a grin. "I don't give a damn who you are. _Your wife, our doctor, _is sick, and if you're going to act like a stubborn ass, then I'll kick you out myself." Tara watched as Jax's eyes widened. The King of SAMCRO wasn't used to people talking to him in that way. The tiny nurse pivoted on her heel and walked off. Left alone, he turned and faced Tara.

"She's right you know. Jackie will fuck you up," she croaked with a smile. Her eyes shut, apparently of their own volition. Even talking made her tired.

"I wouldn't be surprised if she had a shank in those scrubs," Jax replied with a chuckle. His eyes filled with tears as he moved closer. There was a small chair by the bed. Jax sat and grasped Tara's hand. He couldn't fathom losing her. He was terrified of the prospect.

"Hey baby," Tara rasped. Her chest ached so much. There were a thousand possibilities as to what was wrong with her. _I haven't felt bad, _she thought. _Just tired. But I have two little boys, a dangerous biker husband, his junkie ex and crazy biker buddies, and a bitch of a monster-in-law that tried to kill me. I guess I am supposed to be tired. _

"Hey," Jax returned. "How you feeling?"

"I've had better days," Tara answered. Her thoughts wandered to Juice. Just hours ago, she was fine. She was standing in a room not far from the one she was in, and she watched as he gasped his last breath. Now, she wasn't doing much better than he had. She closed her eyes in an effort to forget the insanity this night had caused. It didn't seem real. Nothing seemed real anymore.

"I'm sure," Jax said. Carefully, he kissed her fingers. His eyes were anguished as the chill of her skin touched his lips. _Don't do this, God, _he warned. _You can't just give her back to me and take her away. That's fucked up. _

"Tara, Mr. Teller," Jax looked up to see a tall, middle-aged doctor in the doorway. His caramel skin screamed he'd just arrived back from vacation. Jax scanned him quickly, focusing on his name tag. _Elijah Parker, MD. _The name sounded intelligent and regal, and the doctor's chocolate brown eyes were kind as he surveyed Tara.

"Elijah," Tara breathed. "I didn't…realize…you were…"

"I just came on shift. I've been briefed on what happened. You were at home when this occurred, correct?"

Jax's jaw tensed as he glanced at Tara. She nodded. Confusion glazed Jax's eyes, but he didn't speak.

"The report from the EMS states someone called 911 for you, correct? You couldn't speak?"

Tara nodded once more. Thousands of questions darted through Jax's mind. _Who the hell was with you, Tara? Why were you back at the house? Why didn't you just come home? _He pinched the bridge of his nose with his forefinger and thumb.

"Dr. Parker," Jackie Kelly's voice filled the small, confined space. "Her labs finally came in." The diminutive nurse handed Dr. Parker a stack of papers. Quickly, the handsome physician scanned the lab work. A low whistle escaped his teeth. He looked up at Jax and Tara.

"When was your last period, Tara?" Tara's brow furrowed as she thought about it. She couldn't remember the last period she had. Her heart beat wildly as she realized why the doctor was asking. Her eyes jumped to Jax, who didn't understand yet.

"I don't remember, Elijah," Tara answered candidly. "The last one I recall was probably two or three months ago, just before…"

"Just before my mother was murdered," Jax finished. "She's been dead just over a month."

"You're pregnant, Tara," Dr. Parker said quietly. Tears pricked Tara's eyes. Just before, when she and Wendy were at the house, she insisted she wasn't pregnant, and here she was, knocked up. Terror made her stomach jump. _Oh my God, _she thought. _Is this baby okay? Did Gemma hurt it? Did I? _She began to cry. Her chest ached with the effort. Jax walked over to her. His eyes were misted with tears as well. His big, rough hand stroked her hair as his tears fell. His gut told him when that baby was made. Flashbacks to that hotel room, the one where he thought he was saying goodbye to Tara for good.

_It was perfect. _Every second, every moment had been perfect…until Eli knocked on the door. Then everything as he knew changed. In the hours after, Eli and Gemma were killed, Tara was beaten, and apparently, while all the trauma was occurring, he and Tara had created a baby. He closed his eyes and inhaled deeply.

"I am fairly certain I know what is going on, Tara. I think you have a classic PE, possibly brought on by the pregnancy. I mean, you have risk factors. " Dr. Parker's voice shattered Jax's memories as Tara began to size herself up. _He's right, _she thought. _I'm thirty-five now. Pregnancy makes the blood thicker. _Memories of Gemma's fists and the iron plunging into her gut sprang back to life. _I'm sure that didn't help either. _

"What's a PE?" Jax questioned. "You guys forget, I don't speak doctor."

"Pulmonary embolism," Tara answered. "They happen when a blood clot travels from your leg to your lungs."

"Can they kill you?" Jax's voice was tinged with alarm. Tara nodded.

"It could kill Tara and the baby," Dr. Parker said firmly, "But I am going to do everything I can to ensure that doesn't happen." Tara nodded as Jax stared at her. A mix of fear, admiration, and love crossed his face.

"I'm going to call ultrasound to come up. I'll make it a STAT order," Elijah said. "After that, I will know what I'm working with and how much Heparin you're going to need."

"Okay," Tara replied. She was shocked. Aside from the vomiting, there'd been no indication of pregnancy. Until today, she'd felt normal. Until today, she'd been fine. She closed her eyes. _I'm pregnant. Jesus Christ. _Her mind played back her conversation with Jax from earlier.

"_Babe, are you...?" _

"_No, I'm not pregnant. But I'd like to be, once all of this is over." _

It was strange how silent prayers were answered.

"Dr. Knowles?" a young, pretty ultrasound tech poked her head into the room. Tara smiled broadly. She knew her from the NICU.

"Hi Emma," she whispered. Jax shook his head.

"You know everybody here, dontcha babe?" he laughed.

"I _do _work here, Teller," she fired back. Her words were breathy and weak, but the life that gleamed in her eyes was priceless. Even with the monitors and tubes, she was beautiful. And she was having his baby.

Emma pulled the ultrasound machine into the room, and Jax moved to allow her more space. He circled the bed. Now standing slightly behind her, he watched as Emma carefully exposed Tara's belly. It was still flat. She squirted the thick blue ultrasound liquid onto Tara's skin and pressed the wand on Tara's belly. Immediately, a tiny blip illuminated the screen. Emma quietly scanned and took measurements as Tara and Jax were transfixed by the life lighting up before them.

"There's the heartbeat," Emma said quietly. "I'm going to get a couple more measurements, and then I'll print out the pictures." Jax looked down at Tara, and fear consumed him. _I can't fucking believe this. _His heart ached with joy while his twisted mind brought him crashing into reality. _And what if you're in prison for this one too? How is she going to do this alone? _

"Oh my God," Tara gasped. Jax blinked and looked down at her with concern.

"Are you hurting, Tara? Are you okay?" Tara nodded and turned her head towards him. Her hazel eyes locked with his blue ones, and he saw the tears streaming down her cheeks.

"What is it, babe? What's wrong?"

"Nothing's wrong, Mr. Teller," Emma answered. Tara was grateful for it. She was too amazed to speak. Tara extended a tired, weakened hand towards Jax's face. The touch was so gentle, it sent shivers down his spine. Once her hand grazed his cheek, she gently turned her husband's face back to the monitor. At first, he didn't understand why Tara did that, but as Emma pushed the ultrasound wand over his wife's belly, he immediately got it.

He couldn't look away. As much as he wanted to stare down at Tara's beautiful face, he couldn't tear his eyes from the images on the screen. He couldn't breathe, much less move, and as he felt a waterfall of tears flow down his cheeks, he realized how blessed he truly was.

"Jesus Christ, babe," he whispered.

"I know, Jackson," Tara whispered back. "We're having twins."


	11. Chapter 11

"Oh that's it…"

Wendy spoke in a low purr. Her voice was drenched in ecstasy as the needle sank into the soft and yielding flesh of her arm. A slow burn diffused into her veins, and she leaned back, her junkie needs satiated for a moment. She'd forgotten what clean felt like, and in this moment, she didn't give a damn about living drug free. All she cared about was the thick satisfaction of crank travelling through her blood.

"You like that, baby?" Wendy barely noticed the man lying next to her. The shit she'd injected worked hard and fast, just as she'd hoped. Her droopy eyelids made seeing difficult, at best, but she could feel the heat of his body beside her.

"Mmmmhmmm," she moaned. She could feel the man's hands groping her, but it didn't matter. Thick, calloused hands ran up her sides and squeezed her waist. She could feel the stranger's lips devouring the skin at the base of her throat. His fiery kisses travelled down her sternum and onto her belly, which quivered beneath his touch.

"I'm glad you called," he whispered between kisses. His hot tongue traced the circle of her belly button.

Wendy didn't respond. She was barely conscious as the stranger pulled her jeans down. She didn't have the strength to move, much less engage in foreplay. A cool rush of air skimmed her skinny frame. She couldn't even shiver. The man moved up her shirt next, gently crushing her small breasts as he kissed her. He threw the shirt onto the floor, and her black lace bra followed. Satisfied with the result, he stood and divested himself of his t-shirt, jeans and boxers. Without hesitation, he climbed back atop her. Parting her legs, he slid smoothly into her. Wendy gasped.

"Oh, Jax," she mumbled. "You feel so good."

Instantly, one of the thickly calloused hands snaked up her chest and gripped her throat. She felt the digits tighten. At first, it turned her on, but as the fingers clenched, fear crept into her mind. The crank had all but numbed her. Fear enveloped her heart, but it was too hard to speak.

"My name is not Jax, you dumb whore," the man stated. "It's Izzy."

Wendy's breath caught in her throat, as the push of adrenaline hit her. _Izzy. _Her mind was still clouded with crank, but that name made sense. _Izzy. _Darby's flunky. _Izzy. _Her old dealer had provided her enough crank to deliver Abel prematurely. _Izzy. _Jax beat the hell out of him after that, and when she called awhile back, feening for more crank, Izzy told her fuck off. It took a lot of persuading and even more oral Olympics, but he gave in. _They all give in, _Wendy thought hazily.

"Just…fuck…me." Wendy's words were barely audible, but Izzy heard her. He'd always had a thing for Wendy, and after Jax's assault, Izzy's need for revenge grew. It didn't matter that he'd almost killed Teller's son. The beat down was more than just an insult; it was a thick gash in Izzy's pride. Laid up in St. Thomas, he vowed to get even with Jax Teller and SAMCRO. Now, with a strung out Wendy begging for sex beneath him, he knew the five years he'd waited had been worth it.

She screamed as he slammed brutally into her. She wrapped her legs around him. Her eyes locked with his as he thrust viciously, and her body, the fucked up mess it was, responded. She gripped his shoulders and met his motions. Neither one of them spoke; only the sound of grunts and deep, throaty moans filled the room. The cheap headboard slammed hard and fast against the wall.

"Oh. My. God." Each word Izzy uttered was punctuated a push into Wendy's willing flesh. He didn't hear her moans slowly change into cries of pain. It didn't matter to him. He was just as high as she was, but now it took a lot more to get him there than it did her. As he plunged deeper into her, he plunged deeper into his high, and in that place, he was oblivious to Wendy's screams of agony. He didn't feel her nails ripping into his back, nor did he even feel her struggle beneath him.

"Get the fuck off me Izzy!" Her wail bounced off the walls of Izzy's ancient trailer. She bucked beneath him furiously, but his weight pinioned her to the old, musty mattress. Scream after scream peeled from her throat as shoved further. Wendy felt as if she was ripped in two. Her insides boiled with agony as she realized fighting was pointless. As he yelled his release, Wendy felt the pain subside. He rolled off her and rolled onto his back. Wendy fought the urge to curl into a fetal position. Izzy turned towards her.

"I hurt you." It wasn't an apology; it was an observation. Wordlessly, he sat up and rolled off the bed. He walked stark naked into the living room. Wendy stared at the ceiling. The high still flowed through her, but the pain overshadowed it. Her belly throbbed with hurt. _How the hell did I get here? _The thought shadowed her mind as she stared hazily at the cheap, white tiled ceiling.

_Abel. I had to come back for Abel. _She shook her head as she cried. _Abel, Jax's son. The baby I left behind. The baby that's being raised by Tara. Abel. A boy that's not my son at all. _ She shuddered. _I should have stayed away. I was fine. I was clean. I. Was. Fine. _

"Here, I can fix it." Izzy sauntered lazily back into the room. Wendy glanced in his direction, and in the haze of her remaining high and her tears, she caught a glimpse of a syringe. _More. _Her body shuddered at the word. She was amazed at how her body slipped right back into addiction. The habit fit like a well-worn glove.

_This is all your fault, Jax. _It was true. Jax Teller began the descent into this maddening world. The speedball started the downward spiral. _I should have went to rehab. Gemma wanted me to go to rehab. Gemma tried. _Izzy sat on the bed. Wendy sat up and held out her arm. _This is what I am now. The junkie biker whore everyone thought I would be. SAMCRO's queen is dead. _

Izzy tied off Wendy's arm with astounding ease. He filled the syringe with equal expertise. With an almost gentle touch, he tapped her bruised and wounded skin in an attempt to find a vein. A tiny, thick blue one announced its presence, and Wendy looked up at Izzy. Her huge lackluster brown eyes stared at Izzy, and for a moment, a miniscule twinge of guilt and sadness overcame him.

"Fucking do it," Wendy's voice fell flat. "Just fucking do it."

All remorse left him. Izzy nodded and flipped Wendy's arm to get a better vantage point. There were no other words, no preamble. The needle plunged into Wendy's vein, and she felt the drug soak into her bloodstream. Heat flooded her chest and singed her face, and immediately, Wendy knew.

"You dosed me," she whispered. Her eyes were hollow as they watched him stand and dress.

"Would you prefer I shot you?" He asked the question like he was doing her a favor. "Or stabbed you?" His skinny, sweat soaked chest glittered in the moonlight as he leaned closer to her. "Or would you prefer I beat the hell out of you, just like your husband did to me?"

Her body began to shiver. Nausea rolled in her belly, and her body began to sweat uncontrollably. The crank coursed through her as her heart began to pound furiously against her sternum. Her breath came in shallow pants as she sank back into the mattress. Izzy grabbed his shirt and slid it on his shoulders.

"You're…just going…to…leave…me?"

"Yes. Yes, I am. Like I said, I could have beat the hell out of you. I could have shot you or stabbed you. You're exactly where you were five years ago: cranked out, overdosing. All because of Jax Teller. He didn't want you then, and he sure as fuck doesn't want you now." He stepped out of the room. Even in the beginning of her delirium, she could hear him rustling around the trailer. She closed her eyes.

_I wonder if you died immediately. _Wendy's thoughts turned to Gemma. _I fucking wish I would._ Gemma's voice reverberated in her ears as she sank into oblivion. Suddenly, she was back in St. Thomas. She'd just found out she had Abel. _Abel was alive._

_Dear God, thank you for saving this boy... from his murderous junkie mom, who cared more about a forty dollar rush than she did her own flesh and blood. _

"You were right, Gemma…" she murmured. "I never gave a fuck…not like I was supposed to."

_It's gonna be different this time. This time I have my baby to live for. _Wendy now knew that was bullshit. It was hard to live for a baby she'd never see.

_That's where you're wrong. You have no baby. You lost that privilege_. She remembered Gemma's fingers clenching her throat. _You so much as cast a shadow on that kid, try to turn some legal screw and get custody, I will finish this job. He will never call you "mommy"._

If she could, Wendy would laugh at the irony. It wasn't Gemma that finished the job. It was Wendy. Gemma was currently rotting in a crypt of her own making, and judging from the palpitating and syncopated rhythm of her heart, she knew she wasn't far behind. The hatred she had for Gemma's control left the minute drugs overtook her body, as did all logic. Now, in the throes of overdosing, all she wanted was Gemma's arms around her. At least then, she wouldn't be alone.

_Your son tried to kill me. You tried to clean me up. That didn't deserve a bullet to the head. _

Wendy could hear the soft skid of Izzy's sneakers on the cheap linoleum. Another sound accompanied it; it was the sound of liquid hitting the floor. Wendy was paralyzed. Crank had lodged itself firmly in every nook and cranny of her body, leaving her completely numb.

_Kerosene. _ The smell filled her nose. The realization of what was happening barely registered in her addled mind. She wanted to run, wanted to scream. Terror sank into her core, but she simply was unable to show it.

"Just in case you survive another OD," Izzy said calmly. Wendy sometimes forgot that killing was a business for men like Izzy. It made no difference who was on the receiving end of death. Before long, the gas can was emptied. To her shock and amazement, Izzy leaned down and kissed her forehead.

"Just know, Wendy. I'm not sorry," he whispered in her ear. Her heart was on the verge of exploding.

He stood and turned toward his nightstand. He opened the top drawer and grabbed a book of matches. Wendy heard him shuffle away; once again, his sneakers betrayed him, and as he tried to leave, he turned once more to face his victim.

"Oh yeah, and one more thing: your bastard ex-husband will be first."

_No! No! Don't do that! Abel needs his father! Please! _Wendy struggled to move, and Izzy noticed. He laughed in the face of her terror.

"Yeah, you can't save Jax Teller any more than you can save your son. With Jax out of the way, getting to that kid of yours will be so much easier."

_Nooooooooo! Not Abel! Please! Please God- _

Tears slipped from her eyes as Izzy's sneakers squeaked away. She heard the match rub against the box. She heard it catch flame, and within seconds, Izzy was gone. The smell of kerosene permeated her dying brain cells as the fire quickly spread. Scorching heat surrounded her as her consciousness ebbed away.

_This is it, Gemma. This is what it's like to die. I'm sorry I did that to you. _

As the flames licked the overused, saggy king size bed, Wendy flickered in and out of reality as her awareness of life ebbed away. She barely registered the fire grabbing onto her bed. The only senses she had left smelled the smoke and felt the heat of the flames. As she left go of a life that never worked out, Wendy Case came to a surprisingly quick realization:

_This is exactly what hell must feel like. _


	12. Chapter 12

"This is amazing," Elijah Parker stated. "You're one lucky woman, Tara Knowles."

Tara smiled. For the first time in ages, she felt strong and somewhat whole. The Heparin had done its job and broken the clots in her lungs. From what Dr. Parker could see, her labs looked wonderful, and from the routine scans they'd done of the twins, they seemed to be thriving as well. Tara felt Jax squeeze her hand. _I am one lucky woman indeed, _she thought. The look of adoration that beamed from Jax's eyes was nothing short of stunning. She laced her fingers within his.

"Does this mean she can come home?" Jax asked. He bit his lip in anticipation. Tara felt her body long for his. _Damn hormones. I can't touch him, but all I want to do is touch him. _The bloodwork Dr. Parker had ordered determined Tara was seven weeks pregnant upon her admission. Two and a half hard months had followed since. Tara, now eighteen weeks along, had become a jumble of pregnancy emotions.

"Unfortunately, Mr. Teller, she still needs to remain here for a little while longer," Dr. Parker stated. "We have to keep an eye on those babies." Jax's face fell, but he wanted Tara and his babies safe.

"Are you transferring me to L&amp;D?" Tara questioned. Dr. Parker nodded.

"Yes, we are. You'll remain there for another couple of weeks while we continue monitoring you and the babies. If everything checks out, and you continue to respond the way you have been, you will be able to go home. You'll still require monitoring though. You'll need Home Health to come in and help administer Heparin and track your bloodwork. You'll also require modified bedrest—one shower a day and bathroom breaks only. At least until thirty-two weeks."

Jax inhaled. His chest felt heavy. He knew they couldn't go back to the cabin—it was too far away from the hospital. They'd have to figure out where they were going to stay. _I'll be damned if we go back to that house_, he thought. _All that will do is stress her out more. _He watched Tara nod. Her chin jutted with determination as she listened to Dr. Parker explain the possible issues with the pregnancy. His heart and soul swelled with pride. He knew his wife would do everything possible to save their children, and he adored her for it.

"Now, there's one other question I have for you, Tara, and for you, Mr. Teller," Dr. Parker said calmly. "I hate to remind you Tara, but you are thirty-five, even though you don't look it."

"Hey, watch it there, Parker," she teased. "I'm far from an old lady."

_You got that right, _Jax's conscience ironically said. _You are from an old lady. You're a doctor, and you're amazing. You deserve so much more than what I have given you. _

Dr. Parker laughed. "I agree, but your OB thinks otherwise. You know the risks that come with twins, but they're further multiplied when advanced maternal age is factored in."

"Advanced maternal age?" Jax interrupted. "I don't understand."

"Once you hit thirty-five, the chances of birth defects increase dramatically," Tara explained. "The fact that I'm carrying twins, plus my age, more than likely led to these clots. Elijah is trying to ask me—albeit slowly—is if I will consent to an amnio to determine if everything is okay."

"A what?" Jax asked. "Do I have to remind you that—"

"I know, you don't speak doctor," Tara finished with a smile. "An amniocentesis. It's a test that determines what, if anything, is going on with the babies. It's simple, really. They just take a needle and stick it in my bag of water—"

"What? Isn't that dangerous?!" Jax's heart felt as if would explode.

"Miscarriage is highly unlikely, Mr. Teller," Dr. Parker explained, "But it is a possibility."

"Then we're not doing it," Jax stated. "We've come too far to risk anything now."

"I want to do it," Tara stated. "It's safe, Jax. If there's an issue with either baby, it's best we know now, so we can be prepared. With your family's heart issues, I'd rather know than not know."

Jax nodded. He knew the battle would be lost. He didn't want to risk upsetting her. The last two months had hurt her enough. She was completely isolated from SAMCRO, which he knew she considered a blessing, but her hospitalization and her placement in ICU had kept her from seeing Abel and Thomas. She missed the boys terribly. She knew now that they were safe with his extended SAMCRO family. Chibs would die before anything happened to them.

"I'll set that up for today, prior to your transfer to L&amp;D," Dr. Parker stated. "Once you transfer, you're no longer my patient; you'll be in the capable hands of Dr. Vincent, your OB." He smiled kindly, his white teeth stood in stark contrast to his dark caramel skin.

"Thank you so much, Elijah," Tara said. Her eyes welled up with tears. "You have to come see me, okay?" Dr. Parker nodded.

"You can count on it," the doctor replied with another brilliant smile. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I'll get your transfer started and that amnio ordered." He turned and left the room.

"Oh and one more thing," he said, poking his head back into the room. "The boys can visit you in L&amp;D." With that, he left the room once more.

Tara's face split with a huge, beautiful smile. Jax felt emotion well in his throat.

"Oh Jax," Tara whispered. "Can you bring them to me?" Jax nodded in response.

"I'll go get them. They're at Lyla's," Jax said. "I'll get them bathed and dressed and fed. By then, you should be transferred to the new floor, right?" Tara nodded. The excitement made her hazel eyes glitter with happiness.

"Let me call Bobby to come and stay," Jax said.

"Do you think that's necessary, honey?" Tara asked. Jax shot her a worried look.

"Absolutely," he returned. "I'm not taking chances, especially since—"

"Gemma's killer is still out there," Tara finished. Her heart pounded simply by uttering the sentence. _If only he just knew what I knew_, she said to herself. _He'd know I was safe. _She bit her lip as guilt hit her. She hated keeping him in the dark, but it felt like the right thing to do. _He's had a hard enough time with Juice's death and my problems. _

Tara had heard the story secondhand from Bobby: Jax learned of Juice's death on her first night in ICU. It turned out that Juice had listed her husband as his Next of Kin. Within an hour of Tara's admission, Dr. Christopher called him to identify the dead and release the body for burial. Jax called Chibs, and together, they walked down to the morgue.

"That's him," Jax stated. "That's Juic—I mean, Juan Carlos." Chibs, who stood by Jax's side, said nothing. He was transfixed by his dead prospect. Memories of Juice's smile, his bright eyes, and his incredible gift of self-deprecation lingered in Chibs' mind. A lump rose in the Scot's throat, but he quickly swallowed it down. _Traitor, _Chibs' mind screamed. _You're a goddamned traitor, Juicy. Never again. _

"Thank you, Mr. Teller." It was the pathologist that spoke. Dr. Christopher stood on one side of him, and the pathologist stood on Chibs' side. "I am sorry for your loss."

"What killed him, doc?" Chibs asked of Dr. Christopher.

"Suicide. Intentional overdose." Jax's heart was ice as he stared at Juice's corpse. His last words to Juice—_You betrayed me—_echoed in his mind. He didn't flinch as the orderlies covered Juice's body. The skull tattoos on his chest disappeared under the snowy whiteness. _Thanks Juice, _Jax thought. His gratitude, like his need for revenge, was as cold has his heart. _Thanks for sparing me the trouble. I've got enough on my plate. _

Tara watched as Jax ducked out of the room. In the midst of all the chaos with her hospitalization and the babies, she hadn't explained any of what she knew. The knowledge was a lump of constant nausea in her gut, and she wanted to tell Jax everything : what Juice had done for them, that Wendy was Gemma's murderer, and that Unser and Nero had seen it all—but she couldn't. Honesty was ingrained into Tara's DNA, as was her love for Jax. She knew what would happen if he knew. Wendy, Nero, and Unser would all die.

_They had no idea I was alive,_ Tara thought despondently. _Gemma died because Wendy was scared. No one stopped her, and no one has said a word since. _Tara knew they had no idea that Nero and Unser knew the truth, and that scared the hell out of Tara. It was that fear, combined with her fear of Jax's need for redemption, that kept her mouth shut. For now, her love for Wendy, Wayne, and Nero stopped her from spilling everything she knew. _I just have to figure something out. _

_Soon. _The twins rumbled in her belly, and without thinking, she placed a hand on her growing abdomen. It was amazing to feel life beginning just beneath her fingertips. She smiled, thinking of the amnio. _At least we'll know if we have boys or girls—or maybe one of each. _Her heartbeat quickened as the thought of four children entered her mind. She lay back on the pillows and exhaled. _Can I handle four? Can I really do this? What if Jax—_she stopped that thought. Juice's confession was safe on her phone as well as Margaret's. _Now if I can just figure out how to tell Jax the truth. _She prayed silently that someone else would, so the burden would be off her shoulders.

Jax entered the room again. His mouth was set in a tight, thin line, and his jaw was clenched. He slid his phone into his pocket as walked towards her bed.

"What's wrong?" Tara knew him well enough. She was sensitive to the slightest of changes in his demeanor. He gripped the bedrail hard. Tara watched as his knuckles turned white. Tara looked up into Jax's eyes and was shocked to see glimmering tears in them. Carefully, she placed her hand over his.

"Jax, answer me, please," Tara gently demanded. _Oh God, what does he know? Did he find out what really happened? _Sensing their mother's anxiety, the babies movements quickened in her belly. The movement, still slight beneath Tara's fair skin, caught Jax's eye. Slowly, deliberately, he placed his hand on his wife's abdomen. Without a word, he bent down and grazed Tara's lips with his. The kiss quickly turned passionate, and Tara's heartrate spiked.

"I love you," he murmured as he broke the kiss. The tears that had glistened in his eyes fell down his cheeks.

"I love you too, baby," Tara whispered. "You're scaring me. Tell me what's wrong. Please."

Jax walked away from the bed and ran an impatient hand through his hair. His back to her, she watched as his shoulders slumped.

"I called Bobby," Jax began. "He should be here soon. I called Lyla too. She's happy as hell you're okay. She's going to bring the boys to you. Brooke is helping her. They should be here soon too."

"Where are you going to be?"

"Out." Oh, how Tara hated it when he answered like that. The last time she'd heard that explanation, it was because he was banging Collette. Before that, he was banging Ima. _He knows. _Tara's mind raced in unison with her heart. _I don't know how he knows, but he does. And he hates me. He fucking hates me now. _Tears began to prick Tara's eyelids. _If I'm going to lose him, I'd better know the truth. _Her backbone stiffened as she looked up at him.

"What do you mean, out? Spill it, Teller. Now." The last word was a broken sob. Jax turned, and the anguished look in his eyes spoke volumes. He walked carefully back over to her, and gripped her hand tightly. The gaze in his eyes was so intense, chills rushed down her spine.

"No, Tara. Don't think that way. It's not anything like that."

"No Collette this time?"

"What the fuck—you think I'm mad at you for something? You think I'm going back there again?" Jax's brow knit in confusion. "Tara, what could I possibly be mad at you for?"

_I can make you a list,_ Tara thought guiltily.

"You're having my babies," he said quietly. "And I almost lost you—there's nothing that will tear you from me again. _Nothing._" Jax squeezed her hand reassuringly.

"Then what is it? What's wrong?" Tara queried. "And don't give me that _nothing_ bullshit. I know you better than that." Jax sighed and pulled the chair closer. He sat carefully and gently clasped her hand.

"Bobby was surprised to hear from me. Told me he was just about to call me. The new sheriff is at TM looking for me."

"The _new _sheriff?" Tara asked. In all the madness, she hadn't given any thought to Eli's replacement.

"Yeah, it's a chick. Jarry's her name," Jax explained. Tara was slightly surprised.

"What's wrong? Have they found Gemma's…um…"

"No, they haven't," Jax replied. Tara said a silent prayer. "She came on different business." Tara raised an elegantly arched brow.

"Different business?"

"Yeah. Remember a couple months back, just after you got here, that crazy trailer fire?"

"The one on the news?" Jax nodded. Tara remembered it well. It was all Channel 11 talked about for a solid week. _Meth lab gone bad, _one of the reporters had said. _Massive explosion leaves at least one dead. _They found one charred body in the midst of all the ash. Tara shivered simply thinking about it. Jax looked down.

"They think it was SAMCRO?" Tara asked candidly. "Well, if it was, they know it wasn't you—I mean, you have one helluva an alibi." Tara rubbed her belly for emphasis.

"I wish that were it," Jax said quietly. He dropped Tara's hand. "The body was burned. Badly burned—so bad, dental records were the only thing that could ID the body."

Tara felt her head spin. Her hands grew clammy, and mouth was incredibly dry. She knew before he even said it.

"It was Wendy," he said softly. "Jarry came to see if one of the Sons could verify their ID. Bobby did. It was Wendy. She was the one in the trailer."

Shock blanketed Tara. There was no anguish, just the lingering hard ache of reality. _She was a junkie. She said so herself. _And there had been a time when Tara would have not cared. There was a time where she would have been able to go about her day and not worry—Abel was Tara's son. He didn't even know Wendy as his mother—but now, in the wake of Gemma and everything that came with her death, Tara couldn't process it.

"That's…that's…just awful." Those were the only words that came out of Tara's mouth. She didn't have the mental strength to say anything else.

"Yeah. I thought she was in rehab. I guess I was wrong, huh?" Tara nodded in response. "So, I have to go work on some club business, darlin'. I have to talk to this new sheriff—to find out whether or not this was an accident or if this was intentional—I mean, what if there's a connection? I'm sorry, Tara."

Tara grabbed Jax's hand. Her hazel eyes blazed into his. "Go honey."

Jax's eyes widened. "What?"

"Go," Tara's voice was far calmer than she thought it would be. "I understand. I do."

"Babe, I—" Tara placed her fingers on his lips. She felt his lips pucker slightly in response. _Goosebumps._

"Jax, stop. That's Abel's mother. Go. Figure out what the hell happened. You have to. You'll go crazy if you don't."

"But, you—the babies—"

"Are safer here than anyone else. I'm stuck here, babe. I'm not going anywhere any time soon. Bobby will be good company, and you know he'll kill a motherfucker if anyone touches me or these babies." She smiled, and Jax smiled in return.

"You sure?" Tara nodded.

"Um…Tara?" a sweet, feminine voice broke in. Jax and Tara turned to see Jackie Kelly.

"My favorite nurse," Jax joked. He winked at the tiny nurse. She rolled her eyes and smiled in spite of herself. The spitfire nurse and the President of SAMCRO had become friendly during Tara's ICU stay. Months of his spouse's near death experiences turn foes into friends, it seemed.

"There's a big man in the hallway, asking to see Mr. Teller," she said.

"Bobby," Jax and Tara said in unison.

"Great minds think alike," Jackie laughed. Jax turned to Tara. Jackie exited.

"I love you babe," Jax murmured. He leaned down and kissed his wife's forehead. He felt her touch his cheek. He missed holding her. He missed her hair in his face. He missed the feeling of her skin against his. The closest he'd come to an embrace was hand holding or a strange hug. He wanted his wife back.

"I love you too. Be careful."

"I will be," he said. Tara watched as he walked away from her. She was alone. Her thoughts raced in her brain as a lump rose in her throat. She wanted to fight the tears, but the hormones didn't leave her with a chance. The dam of tears she'd held back for so long broke, and she was shocked to find herself sobbing.

She was crying for Wendy, for the son that would now never really know her, for the good that really was in her soul. All she wanted was love, and in her entire life she never had it. She cried for Jax, for Gemma. She cried for Unser and Nero. She cried for her sons. She cried for everyone she'd lost, and in the midst of tears, she cried for herself. In all the craziness of the last few months, she'd never really taken time for that.

The babies slowed their movements. It was as if they truly responded to their mother's moods. Tara took it as a sign. She needed to be calm. She needed these babies to come into the world in peace. As Tara gently rubbed her belly, she spoke to her children.

"I don't have much to give you both," she whispered into the darkness. "The only constant I have is this insanity." She watched as her skin quivered beneath her hands. "All I can give you, right here, right now, are promises. I promise to love you. I promise to give you adoration and attention. I promise to give you two amazing brothers." She sighed. "I can't promise you the prefect family, but I will promise you one thing, my loves: you will not have to endure this. I promise you will not be born into this life of chaos. Even if it comes with my dying breath, you and your brothers will know what it means to be safe."


	13. Chapter 13

"Where the hell is my husband, Bobby?" Bobby knew that tone all too well. It was the tone that his ex used when he didn't pay child support on time. It was the tone Gemma had when she was pissed at Clay. _Gemma. _The name rolled around the old biker's mind as he stared at Jackson Teller's very pregnant and very angry wife. He wondered if one of the babies Tara carried was a girl. He wondered if they'd give her Jax's mother's name. If that question had been asked a couple years ago, Bobby would have said yes. Now, with Gemma gone, no killer to blame, and a string of bodies in her ghostly wake, Bobby seriously doubted Tara's need to reminisce on better times.

As it stood, the stunning doctor looked quite similar to an olive with a toothpick stuck through it. She was now allowed to move about her hospital room freely, but only if both she and the babies could tolerate it. Bobby quietly stood, amazed at how lovely she was. Her dark hair had grown considerably in the last few months, and it just grazed her slender shoulders. Her skin was that same alabaster white, and it stood in stark contrast to her oversized black pajamas. Her hands rested on her lower back, and she seemed comfortable that way. Bobby reasoned that it helped balance the weight of her ever-expanding belly. She looked like an overripe watermelon, but the eighteen weeks that stretched ahead of her due made Bobby wonder if the good doctor could make it.

"He was supposed to be here an hour ago." Tara's eyes lit with fire. "I keep stalling this goddamned doctor. He _knows _what today is. He _knows_ how important this is."

Of course Jax knew the importance of his lingering, infuriated date at St. Thomas, but the delicate balance of his pristine white sneaker on Ernest Darby's heaving, gasping throat was not something he could simply walk away from. Stark blue eyes stared up at Jax, and a disgusting grin lit his face.

"Papi! Tell them what you know!" The sound of his wife's voice was the only sound in the trailer. Tig had a grip on the pretty caramel skinned woman. His eyes were closed as a whiff of gardenia perfume infiltrated his lungs, and the firmness of her thick ass was moved dangerously close to his chaps, and he knew that, if Darby uttered one fucked up word, this thick senorita could possibly be a newly found conquest.

"I don't know shit," Darby spit between gritted teeth. Jax applied slight pressure on his enemy's throat, then released it. Those crystal blue Teller eyes narrowed, and he walked away. He watched as Darby's wife sank into Tig with relief, and a hard, lascivious smile spread across the man's lips.

"Oh no, baby," Tig whispered into her ear. He made sure Darby could hear every word. He grasped the woman's waist as his lips all but grazed her ear. "You see, Mami, it don't mean shit. My Pres is walking away because he has places to be. You see that _chulo_ over there?" Tig nodded in Happy's direction. Happy met the frightened gaze with a cold grin. "He's going to hack your Papi into pieces."

Darby's wife gasped and began to whimper. Then she began to beg. By this time, the old man leapt to his feet and charged towards Tig. Jax stepped between them and flashed a brazen, cocky grin.

"Oh no, Darby," he said through gritted teeth. "You need to back the fuck up." Darby stopped cold.  
"I came here for one reason and one reason only: Wendy."

Darby's gaze met Jax's with contempt. "What, just become some junkie whore died in a trailer I owned doesn't mean I'm responsible."

The sound of fist meeting soft, aging flesh echoed in the house. Darby's blood splattered on the wall. His wife screamed, and Tig almost giggled in satisfaction.

"Shut her up, Tig," Jax said coldly. Not a word was said as Tig pulled the Ruger and pointed it at the woman's temple. Sobs of fear escaped her throat as she begged for her life. Tig closed his eyes. Every sob reminded him of Dawn. Her begging was Dawn's begging. A lump welled in his throat, but he swallowed it quickly. Darby lunged towards them again, but Jax stopped him.

"All I fucking came here for, Darby," Jax whispered, "Is to know who rented that goddamned trailer from you. You won't give me that. That _junkie whore_ was my son's mother. I know she wasn't there alone. I just want a name." Darby looked at Tig, then at Rosalina, his wife. She was beautiful. She was kind, and God knew he didn't deserve any kindness from her. Still, if Jax knew who was there, they'd all die. And no matter how well Rosalina treated him, he wasn't a hundred percent sure Rosalina was worth dying for.

"Please Papi," Rosalina whispered, "Please…for the bebe. Please for the bambino that grows inside of me. He's yours too, Papi."

Jax gritted his teeth. _The woman was pregnant. _He watched as Tig's gun shook. Tara's image, her sweet, rounded belly, burned on Jax's brain, and he ran a hand through his thick blonde hair.

"Tig, lower the gun," Jax ordered. Tig complied. Without hesitation, Jax pulled his own weapon and pointed it at her. The split second of safety Rosalina felt was gone, and she screamed again.

"I see it this way," Jax said quietly, "I blow her brains out, you know my pain. I don't blow her brains out, I'll find the bastard that killed Wendy, and then I will come back to you and kill you. _All three of you. _Slowly. Painfully. And you will be last. Trust me. I don't give a fuck anymore, Darby. I don't."

"Jax, I…"

"My mother is gone. My son's mother is gone. All I want is answers. And you can't even give them to me, Darby. Fuck you." Jax cocked the gun. Rosalina yelped again.

"Stop!" Darby screamed. "It was Izzy, Jax. Fucking Izzy." Jax's eyes narrowed again as he stared at Darby. Slowly, he began to lower the gun. He looked at Rosalina. She nodded, confirming Darby's words.

"It's Izzy," Rosalina sobbed brokenly, "I swear it on this baby. Give me a stack of Bibles, a stack of babies, I don't care. It was Izzy that lived there, and the things he'd do there…" The Spanish woman paused and shuddered.

The trailer door opened. Chibs, in his sexy leather clad glory, walked into the trailer.

"Yer late, Jackie Boy. Verra, verra late. Figure it out and get the fuck outta here."

"I'll leave it to you then," Jax said quietly. "Darby gave up the asshole that lived in the trailer. It was fucking Izzy. Figure out what you want to do, Vice Pres. I gotta go." A sweet smile passed Jax's lips and Chibs' breath caught in his throat. The boy Jax once was passed by, if only for a moment. Memory after memory assailed the Irishman, and a torrent of tears threatened to fall own his face. Suddenly, he felt the eyes of Tig, of Happy, of Darby, and of Rosalina burned into him. With a deep breath, he composed himself and settled into what he needed to do. The sound of Jax's Harley slid into the distance.

"I'm sorry Rosalina," Happy whispered. The movement was stealth. Rosalina didn't have time to breathe, much less react to the barrel of Happy's gun meeting the base of Darby's skull. Before she could scream again, before she could react, Happy's trigger had been pulled, and Thomas Darby, enemy of SAMCRO and of the Aryan Brotherhood, lay dead at Rosalina's feet. Strangely, the pretty Spanish woman didn't cry. She just stood and allowed his blood pool at her feet. They all stood in the trailer, unsure of what to do, what to say, or how to feel.

Jax Teller rolled into St. Thomas' parking lot. He barely parked the vehicle before he ran into the hospital. The boyish grin, the dichotomy to his murderous side, was spread across his face. He rushed upstairs and into Tara's room. Immediately, his grin faded. Tara's cheeks were flooded with tears. She sat on the bed, her swollen feet elevated. Jax's heart pounded hard against his ribs as he approached her.

"Babe, I'm sorry," he began. "I didn't mean to be late. I tried everything I could. I just…"

"Bobby went to the cafeteria. He was hungry. I couldn't keep him waiting anymore." Tara spit the bitter words from her lips. The shadows of the sunset spilled through the open blinds of her room. Shades of purple, rose, vermillion, and navy sank into the maternity suite. In less than five months, they would be in this room, celebrating the birth of their babies.

"Are they okay?" Jax asked. Sincerity dripped from his voice as he sat next to her. "Did the doctor come talk to you?" Tara angrily wiped her cheeks and glared at him.

"No, I waited for you," she responded. "Just like I always do. I waited for you in high school. I waited on you to leave Charming, and you stayed. I came back, thinking that somehow, some way, I'd be able to wait until you could leave again. I wanted a family, Jax. With you."

"Babe, that's all I've ever wanted. Truly," Jax whispered. He reached for her hand, and Tara jerked it from him.

"Fuck you, Jax," she spat. "Remember that day, that day we thought it would be our last outside of the confines of yet _another_ prison sentence?" Jax looked down, unable to face her. Of course he remembered. It was the day his babies were conceived. It was the day his mother died. _One door closes, _he thought. He gently rubbed her burgeoning belly. _Another opens. _Surprisingly, she didn't push him away.

"I remember," he answered stoically.

"Yeah, well so do I." Vengeance filled her hurting soul. The hours, the days, she'd spent in the hospital ensuring her babies survived flooded her. The moments missed with Thomas and Abel, the deaths of Gemma, of Wendy...the secrets, the lies, the pain and agony…and he couldn't even be on time for the one slice of joy she had in her life? Fury coursed through her veins.

"I remember going home. _To our home._ I went there to wait on you. Together, we were going to turn you in. Together, we were going to be a family and face the fears and the terror head-on. We were doing it because it was the right thing to do. We were doing it out of love. And this love," she paused to place her hand on Jax's as the twins wriggled beneath their touch, "is us."

"It is us, babe. This is our family, and I will do everything I can to protect us." His blue eyes were full of remorse and of love. Tara's heart felt as if it would break.

"You believe your own rhetoric, Jackson," Tara replied. "And for a long time, I did too."

"You _did_?" Jax's voice almost broke.

"Do you feel this?" Tara asked. She pressed his hands to her stomach. Beneath his hands, two babies danced within her flesh. It was magic. He nodded.

"This is our future, Jackson. _These babies. Our sons. _That is the only future I want. I don't want SAMCRO. I never did. I want _you. _I want _them. _I want _Thomas and Abel_. Your outlaw life and your fatherhood cannot rest in the same man. It killed your father, and it will kill you, if you don't get out."

"Tara, I…"

"No. No more, Jackson. I make enough to support us, and there are ways you can support us too. It will work. It will. If you want it badly enough, it will work. You have a choice: do you want _us _to work, or do you want _SAMCRO _to work?"

Jax's eyes stared bleakly at her. Tara had her own skeletons to battle, but tonight, she couldn't handle it. She needed to draw the proverbial line in the sand.

"I don't…" Jax opened his mouth to speak, but a knock stopped him.

"Dr. Knowles?" A tall, middle-aged physician walked into the room. Clad in a perfectly starched lab coat and thick glasses, he seemed more Nutty Professor than OB/GYN. Jax stood to shake his hand.

"You must be Mr. Teller," the doctor said slowly. Jax nodded and smiled sadly. They both turned to Tara, who looked at the physician with excited eyes.

"I'm Dr. Lewis, the OB/GYN on call. Dr. Vincent is at an engagement this evening, so she requested that I stop in and give you the results of the amnio."

"Please, have a seat," Dr. Lewis said calmly as he grabbed a chair. Beneath the glasses was a boyish countenance and serious brown eyes. Jax complied. Tara's hands rested on her belly, and Jax placed his atop of hers. They stared intently at the physician as he opened the file before them.

"I am happy to report that your sweet babies are perfect," Dr. Lewis said with no preamble. "Every chromosome is where it is supposed to be, shaped the way they're supposed to be shaped." Tara let out a sob of happiness, and tears fell unabashed down Jax's cheeks. For a moment, he sat in the chair and sobbed. Another knock on the door made Jax look up.

"Emma!" Tara practically squealed. The ultrasound tech entered the room, equipment in tow. Tara's brow knitted in confusion.

"Wha…?" Tara began, but Dr. Lewis held up a hand.

"Dr. Vincent told me you wanted to know the sexes of the babies. The test has already given the results, but I thought it'd be better for you to see as you find out." Tara beamed with pride as she quickly exposed her belly. Her exuberance made Jax chuckle as he took stood behind the head of the bed.

Emma brought the machine closer and clicked it to life. With a spray of warm blue jelly, Emma placed the wand on Tara's belly, just as she had a million times before. Dr. Lewis stood on Tara's left side, near the monitor.

"There is what I refer to as Baby A," Dr. Lewis' deep baritone filled the room. Tara looked up at the physician expectantly.

"I take you want the know-as-you-go option," he said, laughing. Tara nodded vigorously. Jax's smile backed his wife, and Emma probed on. Two figures illuminated the screen, and Jax watched transfixed. One twin seemed to summersault over and over, where the other lay calmly, happily floating.

"Twin A, the future soccer player, is a girl," Dr. Lewis said kindly. Tara sobbed. _A girl. I'm going to have a girl. _Visions of pink and purple and bows and braids flooded her psyche. Jax grabbed her hand and stared into her eyes. They were full of pride and admiration, of reverence.

"And the other?" Tara managed to choke out. Emma moved the probe to left slightly to the more laid-back twin.

"Mr. Teller, Tara," Dr. Lewis said quietly, "Are very lucky. That sweet Baby B is a girl as well. Congratulations, Tara and Jax. You're having twin daughters." Tara closed her eyes and prayed gave thanks for her blessings. The irony wasn't lost on her. Two women, women once a vital part of the world, were gone, and in their place were two twin girls. _ Her daughters. _

Tara couldn't speak. Jax was shocked. Emma removed the probe, wiped Tara's belly, and quietly left the room. Dr. Lewis quietly followed. He offered a simple congratulations and was gone.

"Oh my God, Jax! Girls! Two girls!" Jax couldn't remember the last time he'd seen her so happy. The fury and heartache had dissipated, and her lovely face seemed lit from within. If he were a religious man, he'd compare her to the Madonna, so stunning was she. "Four kids! I don't know how I got so lucky, but I am grateful for it."

Jax touched her abdomen gently. The girls kicked beneath his touch. He thought of Thomas and Abel. He thought of the last seven months. In that time, Tara was framed as an accessory to murder, a kid shot up his school with weapons her husband inadvertently provided, Jax fucked Collette, Gemma was dead. Wendy was dead, as was Juice. So much had happened. So much.

The burner phone in Jax's pocket rang, and it echoed in the silence. Tara's eyes met Jax's, anticipating his next move. To her surprise, his fingers gently traced the waves his daughters created within Tara's stomach. The phone rang and rang, and he didn't move to answer. He just stroked Tara's belly, gazed back and forth between her eyes and his girls.

_His girls. _The words alone brought joy to his face. Tara had Thomas and Abel wrapped around her fingers. As much as he loved seeing it, her very absence was agony to them that she was gone. It broke Jax's heart, but a tiny worm of jealousy gnawed at him, because he knew he wouldn't have been missed like that. His imagination worked overtime as he pictured Tara miniatures running circles around his feet. The thought made his eyes well up with tears. With a deep exhale, he sat next to her and rested his head on her torso.

Tara stroked Jax's thick wavy hair. She felt his hot tears scald her, and still, she said nothing. Eventually, the burner phone ceased its ringing, and the room was bathed in silence.

"It's you, Tara," Jax whispered. His grip tightened around her waist.

"What?" Tara croaked. She wasn't sure she'd heard him correctly.

"It's you. It's our sons…and now our daughters. There is nothing else for me besides you…and them. If I lost any single one of you, I wouldn't make it. You and this family are what I want to live and breathe. I don't want the fear any more. I don't want the tragedy anymore. I'm not strong enough for it."

"What are you saying, Jackson?"

"I'm saying, I love you. I love our babies. You're right, just like JT and Maureen were right and a slew of other bastards in between were right: I don't belong here. I never have. I only wish I'd realized it sooner. Opie even said it."

"So you're done?" She queried. It seemed almost too easy.

"I'm done," he said. His crystal blue eyes were steadfast and true. "You have, at most, five months left of this pregnancy, if I am lucky."

Tara nodded. She'd be lucky to get three or four months, but he didn't know that. Twins typically came early. "And what does that have to do with anything?"

"I have to tie up loose ends. Nero, if I can talk to him, may be able to help us set up in Norco. If not, you can always begin applying for positions out East."

"What loose ends?" Tara asked. She already knew the answer.

"Gemma's murder. Wendy's murder, for starters. I need to try and make a way for us to live. Money is good now. We're stacking up savings, and if I play this right, you can take a decent maternity leave before going back to work."

Tara stared skeptically at Jax. "This sounds familiar. You plan on doing this in five months?" Her whole body stiffened.

"I am, Tara. I promise." His eyes looked sincere, just as they had millions of times before, but unlike those other times, Tara didn't smile and dissolve into forgiveness. Instead, she crossed her arms under her generous breasts and glared in defiance.

"I understand your promises. I remember every single broken one. I remember crying when I found you with that whore Ina. I screamed in horror when Otto killed that nurse. I hated myself when I faked a miscarriage to save my family!" Tara's voice rose once more, and Jax sat up. Her eyes glistened as she stared at him, but she continued on.

"I loved you still, even when you fucked Collette. Hell, I loved you when you found me at the playground, even though I was terrified you'd kill me." The last word was a broken sob, and Jax cried with her.

"I never stopped Tara! Never! Every moment I breathe, you are in that breath. Our children are my blood, but you are my heart Tara. I know I've pushed you away. I know I've made you doubt me…"

"Made me doubt you? I _never _doubted that you _loved me, _Jackson Teller. Not once." Her eyes flared as she stared at him. "What I doubted was Clay. I doubted the club. I doubted the hold it had on you. It still holds you, even now."

Wordlessly, Jax stood. Before Tara could speak, Jax twisted his golden SONS rings off his fingers and placed them at Tara's bedside. He stripped the kutte and laid it on the chair. He knelt at her side. Tara's lips trembled as he gazed up at her. He reached into his pocket and produced two things: a tiny, white velvet box, and a long, mahogany one.

"I was saving this for your return home," he said quietly. "While you've been here, I've been working. I've been making new allies, solidifying alliances, opening doors for profit that didn't exist before. Lyla now owns forty-nine percent of Red Woody Productions. I own fifty-one percent." Tara's eyebrows raised.

"Don't worry babe, I am a _silent partner._ Lyla is running the show. She supports Ope's kids and her kids, and I support ours. I gotta hand it to her, Lyla is killing that shit. It's her fucking calling."

Tara smiled genuinely as Jax continued. "I have a twenty percent partnership in Diosa, which is another silent income, but if Nero will ever return my calls, I was thinkin of selling to Bobby." Tara's eyes shifted guiltily. She hoped Jax didn't notice.

"That still doesn't get us out of Charming, Jax. What about TM?"

"TM is in ruins, but insurance money is flowing in to rebuild. Soon, even though it's not my problem, TM will be good as new."

"Not your problem?" Tara raised a delicate brow. Jax, still on his knees, offered the mahogany box first. With trembling hands, Tara reached out and grabbed it. Carefully, she opened it, and a bundle of thick, expensive paper tumbled forth. Tara opened it and bean to read slowly.

"You _sold _TM." The words were a mix of excitement, sadness, fear, and guilt.

"Chibs, Bobby, and Tig own it equally."

"And the answers you need? Wendy? Gemma?" Tara asked as her heart pounded in her chest.

"That's what the next five months are for. The DA will have her pound of flesh, we will be exonerated, and we can start anew."

"You sold your legacy," Tara whispered.

"I didn't sell my legacy, Tara. Thomas, Abel, our twin girls, and you…you're my legacy. Wherever you are, you are my legacy. Not TM. Not SAMCRO. You. This family. _Our family." _ He pulled open the other white box. Inside lay a gold necklace. A large, tree shaped pendant rested at the bottom. Each limb had a precious stone at the end. A smile split Tara's face.

"There's a stone for each of us," she exclaimed. "One for Abel, for Thomas, for you, and for me…and one for the girls, when they get here." Jax nodded.

"This is real, Tara," Jax responded. "This is happening. You tell me where you want to go, and we will go. We are more than financially able to swing this. For the first time in my life, the chains of SAMCRO are gone from me. We're almost free."

The burner rang again. This time, Jax took it from his pocket, glanced at the number, and turned it off.

On the other end of the line, Chibs clicked his burner phone shut. He smiled to himself. Jax said it was going to happen. He said he was going to break free and leave Charming and never look back. Chibs had heard the talk for so long, he didn't believe it would happen. But now, it was the beginning of the end of Jax Teller's reign as King of SAMCRO. Poised to take his place, Chibs knew what needed to happen.

Silently, he walked towards Tig and Happy. The grave of Thomas Darby was complete. Wrapped in a solid white sheet, Chibs grabbed the bottle of lighter fluid he'd brought with. Dousing the bastard in the strong smelling liquid, he knelt at the feet. Grabbing his Zippo from his pocket, Chibs lit the sheet. Flames exploded into the night. Bobby kicked Darby into the hole and watched as Tig and Happy systematically covered the flames in dirt.

"I'm proud of ye, Jackie Boy," Chibs murmured low into the dark night. No one heard him say a word. The sound of fire and the grunts of men filled the night. Thoughts of Izzy swarmed his brain. He'd be President soon. It was so hard to believe, but the vengeance that quaked through his bones reminded him that this life was what he was meant to do. _Izzy will be next, _he thought angrily. Chibs picked up a shovel and before he dug, he whispered once more.

"Ye made the right decision, Jackie Boy. Ye're gettin' right this time. May God bless yer family's soul."


	14. Chapter 14

Nero Padilla was in terrible shape. He stood in his room, watching gorgeous women sell their curves and their wares to men from all walks of life. Within the walls of Diosa, business was booming. He should have been happy, but the gentle Spanish companionator essentially locked himself away and cut off communication with the outside world. The girls at Diosa assumed that Nero's self-administered sequestration was due to heartbreak. Gemma's death had caught everyone by surprise.

"If only they knew," he whispered. He crossed his arms across his broad chest. Memories of that night completely engulfed him. He saw Tara's lifeless form, covered in blood; he heard Wendy's cries of terror. Wayne's blank stare haunted him just as much as Gemma's lackluster eyes did. He hadn't spoken to anyone since the funeral. Many of the Sons had come in to relieve their tension, but he avoided them at all cost. He knew his face would give him away. The shame and the guilt and the pain was plain, and he couldn't hide it.

When Jackson Teller walked in, Nero's breath caught. He'd heard of Tara's pregnancy and the complications, and as much as he wanted to pay respects to her, he simply couldn't bring himself to do it. Seeing Tara would bring everything back, and he couldn't deal with that, not now.

A knock on the door startled him, even though he knew it was coming. A stunning blonde with massive breasts walked in. Her red dress clung in all the right places, but it barely covered her tight, perfect body.

"Jax Teller wants to speak with you," she said silkily.

"Tell him he can have any girl he wants. On the house, of course," Nero responded, only half joking. His soul knew Jax wasn't here for any of his girls. Collette had been a distraction in the worst of times, but Gemma's death resurrected her son. With her gone, Jax stepped into John Teller's boots, and with that, his adoration of Tara had been reborn. It hadn't ever died; it just lay dormant within Jax's heart. A difficult man at his best, Teller was abominable at his worst.

Nero's eyes didn't look at the stunning girl; the gaze was fixed on the window. They were fixed on the business. That's all he had now. Business and Lucius. They were all that mattered. Everything else he loved and believed in died the day Gemma did, and if there was any way to get into his soul, that died when Channel 11 news plastered Wendy Case's face across its screen. Her death had been the final blow. All he wanted now was to run as far from Charming as possible.

"I'm not here for whores, Nero," Jax said as he sauntered into the office.

"I didn't ask you here for business, _vato,_ so I don't know why you're here._" _Nero responded. Jax's eyes narrowed as he helped himself to a chair. Nero crossed the room and sat on the edge of his desk. "What do you want, Jax?"

"You've been one helluva man to get a hold of, _vato_," Jax returned with disdain. "I've been trying to contact you, see how you're doing."

"I'm fine," Nero countered. "No need to come in and see me. If I needed anything, I'd find you."

Jax was taken back by Nero's short answers. Had he been anyone else, Jax would've turned aggressive, but the younger man knew how Nero loved his mother, and theirs was not the kind of relationship that was easily forgotten. Jax's heart ached for his friend, but he was at Diosa for a singular purpose.

"I have no doubt of that," Jax stated with more annoyance than he'd intended. "I'm here because I may need something from you." Nero's brow raised. "I'm here for business only."

"And what do you need?" Nero questioned.

"You didn't ask me here for business, but that's what I'm here for," Jax stated. The words fell like cold rain in the room. Nero looked out the window once more, not sure whether to be happy or pissed. Considering everything with Gemma, he decided to count Teller's words as a blessing.

"Can I ask why?" It was more curiosity than anything that made Nero ask. He turned and faced the man that began his own downward spiral. If he had just treated Gemma like a casual fuck, she would have never introduced him to Jax. Nero would have stayed far from the club, and Gemma would be a one-night memory, not a haunting ache gnawing at his gut. His fingers twitched with the need to use again. Heroin hadn't even been a consideration before; now Nero's days alternated between prayer, self-loathing, and managing a group of whores. It made gang-banging seems easy. Popping pistols, driving low-riders, ducking bullets when they fell, those were easy. Life in the shadows of Gemma Teller-Morrow was more than he could bear. Jax's crystalline eyes glittered with a hint of danger.

"Only Chibs and Bobby know this Nero: I'm getting out."

Nero exhaled. _So the king realizes it isn't all it's cut out to be. _ A sardonic smile spread across Nero's lips. If it were that goddamned easy, then he would've walked away from Gemma. _Those motherfucking Tellers,_ his brain laughed. _They're fucking Kryptonite. _

"So you're quitting? Just like that?" Nero turned to face the younger man.

"Just like that. I'm done. I don't want what happened to my mother and to Wendy happen to my wife, my sons, or my daughters."

"Daughters?" Nero countered. "Did you say daughters?" A massive smile lit Jax's face as he nodded.

"Tara's having twin girls. She finally gets to come home today." A touch of pride swelled in Nero's chest. He always treated Tara like a daughter, and he knew she had to be over the moon excited. Nero whistled through his teeth.

"Congratulations, Jax. How long has she been in?"

"Between ICU and labor and delivery, almost five months, but honestly, I don't know why they're letting her go. She's almost seven months along, so we'll be back soon." Jax punctuated his sentence with a light laughter. Nero almost joined in, but stopped.

"So what does your leaving have to do with me?" Nero asked simply.

"My share of Diosa. I want to sell it. I'd like to sell it to Bobby," Jax replied. Nero nodded.

"I don't see an issue with it. You still staying in with Lyla at Red Woody?" Jax nodded.

"As a silent partner. I trust Lyla to do right." Nero rested his hands on his hips. The pretty blonde widow had a beautiful and whip smart head on her shoulders. She was business savvy, and she knew the industry better than anyone. Nero knew Jax was making a good decision. Red Woody would soon be a heavy contender in the porn industry. The investment was an amazing one.

"I don't mind your share going to Bobby," Nero stated plainly. "I've thought of doing the same thing."

Jax's brow knitted in confusion. "What are you talking about?"

"I only need a little more money to make the ranch dream a reality," Nero explained. "My share of Diosa, if sold at the right price, would make a pretty profit, and I could take Lucius home and just be with him."

Jax stared at the older man, really looked at him for the first time in a long time. While Jax was busy getting things together with the Sons, watching after the boys, and caring for Tara, he'd given little thought to the men Gemma left behind. He hadn't seen Unser since the funeral, and that had been just over seven months ago. So much life had happened since then, and Jax was breathless with the finality of it all. Now, standing across from a man that showed him nothing but loyalty and kindness, he'd seen the neglect of Nero Padilla.

The aging Latino once oozed gentle power and sex appeal; now, his beard had more gray than black, and the silver crept into his once well-trimmed hair. In the months that passed, Nero had grown thinner, and Jax noticed with sadness how the old _vato's_ clothes barely hung on his bones. The gorgeous cheekbones Gemma had always admired jutted from the beautiful planes of his face, but it was his eyes that made Jax ache. They were distant, despondent, locked in a hell of his own making.

"Seriously, Nero?" The question wasn't one of judgement, just shock. Jax never thought Nero would leave Diosa. Not now, anyway. He thought Nero would last least another five years. That was before Gemma's murder, before Wendy's demise in a dented aluminum hot box. It was before Juice and Clay, before the Darvany's kid shooting up a school, before Darvany's body rotted in a shallow grave. A lump clung to Jax's throat as the last year washed over him. He hadn't thought of it all. There simply hadn't been time. The gravity of it made Jax unsteady, and he swayed dangerously.

Nero quickly breeched the gap between them and grabbed Jax. The fatherly instinct kicked in, and he helped the younger man to a chair. Jax buried his head in his hands, and suddenly, the sound of sobs echoed through the small office. Again, Nero was quick on his feet, and he stood to shut the blinds. It was better the girls didn't see the President of SAMCRO in this vulnerable state. Some would try to comfort him, and others would try to fuck him in every way possible. Nero silently crossed the room and sat next to Jax.

"Patterson wants blood for the shooting," Jax barely whispered. "I can't give her anything. I've been getting my finances in order and welding alliances between our rivals, but I can't find a goddamned thing on what happened to my mom and to Wendy."

Nero swallowed hard. "I understand the DA…but what do Wendy and Gemma have to do with anything?" His voice wavered only slightly, and he was glad Jax didn't hear it.

"She doesn't care who gets thrown in prison," Jax explained. "If a man commits two murders, he could sell a kid a gun. That's how she sees it, anyway." Jax laughed. It was hard, brittle sound. "I suppose she's right. I mean, it was one of our guns that killed those kids. Look at how many I've killed."

"I've been searching for leads," Jax continued. "Any link between my mother and Wendy. It's no fucking coincidence that they died within a month of one another. That shit had to be planned, and if I can find the sonofabitch that did it, I have my out. Tara, the kids, and me can just go. Bobby and Chibs understand. I'm sure Tig and Happy will too, eventually. All I want is my family. That's all I want, Nero."

That's when Jax Teller broke down in Nero's arms. Tears streamed down Jax's face, the expression mirrored Nero's internal pain. He held a key to the answers, but what would it do to him to know that it was Wendy that pulled the trigger? What good would come from Jax knowing that he and Unser covered up what they knew?

Suddenly, Jax pulled away from Nero, wiping his eyes furiously with his red flannel sleeve. His eyes were contrite and earnest as they glanced up at the other man. The emotion in them caused Nero to look down; he couldn't handle what he saw. Jax stood.

"Look, I'm sorry, man," Jax murmured. "I didn't come here for this…"

"I know, _mano_," Nero replied. He remained on the couch. Comforting

"I just came here," Jax said quietly, "To make sure you were cool with my decision."

"I am," Nero answered.

"Then I have to get back to the hospital to get my girls." Jax smiled with those last two words, just as he had every single day since he and Tara got the news. "We're having a small welcome home thing tonight for her, if you'd like to come. I tried to call Unser, but he's been as incognito as you have."

"Where are you staying?" Nero queried. It was valid question. TM was still undergoing reconstruction, and the home they once shared was full of its own ghosts.

"Mom's house. Tara wanted to go back," Jax stated. "In fact, she fought me tooth and nail. Said she didn't want to be in Mom's house."

Nero shuddered. "I can't say I blame her. I take it the cabin is too far?"

Jax nodded. "Mom's is the only logical choice. So tonight, it's just going to be super close people: Bobby, Chibs, Lyla, Happy, Tig…possibly Venus, from what he said."

"Venus van Dam?" Nero almost laughed. Tig was one of the most open people Nero had ever known, and he never ceased to surprise. "I may come just to see that."

"Alright man," Jax said. "Hope to see you there." He turned towards the door, and without a word, he walked out.

Finally, Nero was able to exhale. Part of him, the part that still loved the Sons, wanted to see Tara and Abel and Thomas, and he wanted to interact with the Sons. Images of Gemma's corpse flashed in front of his eyes. He shook his head, trying to push the memories away.

"I told you I'd never leave you," he heard Gemma whisper in his ear. His eyes filmed over. She was right. She would never leave him. No matter where he went, she would follow. The guilt he harbored within would always linger, and there was no escaping it. He stood and walked to the desk. Pulling the top left drawer, he grabbed his keys. He opened the door and rushed out.

"I'm going out," Nero said absentmindedly. He didn't direct the comment at anyone in particular, he just sauntered outside, got in his car, and sped out the parking lot. He had no idea where the hell he was going, he just knew that his heart and his ghosts would lead him where he needed to be.


	15. Chapter 15

"I'm fucking gigantic." There was no humor in Tara's voice, just resignation. Her belly was massive, and she looked much larger than she had when she carried Thomas. She was almost eight months pregnant today, and she felt every minute of eleven months. The girls moved constantly, and it was difficult to move, to breathe.

"You're beautiful, babe," Jax answered. From another man, that statement may have been sarcastic, or placating, but from Jax, it was pure and genuine. He'd missed much of Tara's pregnancy with Thomas, and the guilt that still resided within him still, at times, was too much to bear. Jax looked at his wife with such sincerity, Tara's heart wrenched, and the girls kicked hard again.

_I'm far from beautiful. Between your daughters, your mother, and your ex, my heart and soul have been beaten to a pulp. So have all my internal organs. _The confinement of the hospital and the hormones mixed with the guilt and anxiety she carried over Gemma and Wendy was a heady and dangerous emotional cocktail. She found herself teary eyed most of the time. The strong, stoic woman she'd been during Thomas' pregnancy was long gone; then again, the majority of the people she'd leaned on during that time were gone too. She ticked the names away in her head.

_Piney. _There were so many _what-ifs_ that surrounded the old man's memory. _What if I had listened to him and just left SAMCRO secrets lie? _She looked out into the Charming night. Streetlights she hadn't seen in ages colored the twilight. _Opie. _She closed her eyes as she remembered Jax's best friend. _There was no saving him, Tara. Don't fool yourself. He was destined to die the minute Donna did. _It was the truth. Opie wasn't Opie with Donna, just like Jax wasn't Jax without Tara. The thought was staggering to her now.

_Clay. _Her eyes opened again. _Fuck him. _Instinctively, she rubbed her wrist. It still hurt sometimes, when it rained, or if she lifted one of the boys in a weird way. _I'm glad he's fucking dead. Rotting is too good of a judgement for him. _She looked at Jax. The line of his jaw, his tight, worried lips, they were all Gemma, all over again. _Gemma. _Now Tara's eyes filled with tears. Images of Gemma's hands on Tara's belly during her last pregnancy flooded her brain. She squeezed her eyes shut as images of the last labor came next.

"C'mon, Tara," Gemma coached gently. "I know it hurts baby, I know. I've done it too. Twice. It's hell on Earth, but I guarantee it's worth this fucking pain. C'mon, baby. Push. As hard as you can…"

Tara listened. She pushed.

"Whoa, Knowles," Dr. Vincent, one of colleagues, said firmly. "Stop pushing. Seriously. STOP." The doctor in Tara was gone at that point. Fear washed over face as she tried to follow orders. The Tara in that hospital bed was all fresh-faced, completely new mom. Everything she'd learned in medical school and residency and in mending the bodies of babies for years disappeared, and she was just a woman. She was a woman whose husband was in jail, who needed him there. Gemma gripped her hand tight. For a moment, Tara's hazel eyes locked with Gemma's brown ones, and it was enough. Even without Jax, Gemma Teller-Morrow was more than enough.

"What's wrong?" Tara almost screamed. The pain was unbearable. There was no epidural. She _wanted _the pain. She'd grown Thomas within her for nine months without his father. A strange part of her felt responsible for his imprisonment, like there was _something_ she could've done to stop it. Now, with her child leaving her body, she was losing the only part of Jax that lived within her. Yes, she would see the baby, hold the baby, and undoubtedly love the baby, but that small little piece of Jax would be outside, not inside.

"There's nothing wrong, Tara," Gemma's hard voice snapped her back into reality. "You got the baby's head out in one push, and half the shoulders are out, too. Slow down, honey. It looks like you'll have the baby out in your next hard push. Give your doctor friend a minute, here." The last words were tinged with nervous laughter.

Tara didn't respond. She simply nodded and waited for the next command. A second later, Dr. Vincent told gave her the go ahead, and Tara pushed hard. The whole room was quiet for a split second, and then a lusty, beautiful cry rang out.

"_Your son is here,"_ Gemma sobbed. "_He's here, Tara. You did it." _Tara smiled now with the memory.

"Bitch!" Gemma's voice screamed in her brain. "How could you turn us in?" Tara shuddered. How different that Gemma was than from the Gemma of that horrible day seven months ago. Shrieking, punching, kicking. Had intervention not walked into her home in the form of Eli Roosevelt, she'd be dead now. Jax wouldn't have daughters. He wouldn't have a wife, and chances were, once he'd found out, he wouldn't have a mother either. Then who would've raised the boys?

_Wendy. _The woman she'd once hated now made her heart ache. _Such a waste. _When Wendy had returned to Charming, she seemed like she really had her shit together, like she was the most stable of them all, including her. For that woman with that potential to die in a meth trailer on the outskirts of town was unacceptable. _I'll do better for Abel, Wendy, _Tara thought sadly. _He won't be part of this life. I swear that to you. _

"We're here, babe. Home sweet home," Jax's voice tore her from memories that should have been forgotten. She smiled at him, but it didn't reach her eyes, and he noticed. He seemed to notice more and more these days, and that reality scared the hell out of her. As tears fell down her cheeks, Jax gripped her hand. It felt familiar. _Gemma. _They had the same grasp. It was a strange thought.

"Tara, you're breaking my heart," Jax whispered. As Tara looked over at her husband, she could see the tears that filmed over his eyes.

"This is your mother's home, not mine. Not ours," Tara said softly. Jax's heartbroken expression made her cry harder. "I'm not mad at you, Jax," she wept. "I just know that there will never be a home for us in Charming again. It's not like we're going house hunting when all this is said and done. We're leaving, and even though that's what I want, more than anything, it still hurts."

Jax nodded in understanding, and he reached out and wiped her face. She reached out and did the same for him in return. He smiled sadly. It was then that Tara realized how hard it must've been for her

"Let's go inside," he whispered. "Our sons are waiting on you." She nodded. Jax got out first and rounded the front of her SUV and opened the door.

"Milady," he said gallantly, bowing at the waist. He extended his hand, which she happily took. Slowly, she emerged from the vehicle and walked towards Gemma's house. _I am not going to remember the bad, _she vowed silently. _Not when we're so close to freedom. _Jax laced his fingers between hers and carefully pulled her close. Just outside the front door, he pulled her in and kissed her gently.

"I love you, Tara," Jax whispered. The girls promptly kicked their mother, and by extension, their father. Jax laugh in spite of himself.

"I think our girls are gonna give their brothers a run for their money," Tara giggled.

"I think you're right," Jax responded with a wink. He bit his lip, and it took everything Tara had within her to not jump his bones on Gemma's front porch. Luckily, Jax turned the doorknob and opened the door. To Tara's astonishment, the boys were standing in the foyer, waiting for her. Clad in footie pajamas, their blonde hair standing in all kinds of directions, they stared, open-eyed and open-hearted, waiting for her. Tears began anew for Tara, but this time, they were happy ones.

"Oh, Abel, Thomas," she mouthed. Her voice was gone. With no thought to her massive stomach, or how hard it would be to get up after, she fell to her knees and allowed them to run to her. They'd seen her in the hospital often, but this was different. This meant the boys could wake up with her, go to sleep with her, and do everything in between. As they filled her arms, she closed her eyes and inhaled their little boy scent. She reveled in the sensation of holding them.

Within a couple of seconds, the boys squirmed out of her arms. Tara looked surprised. Abel grabbed her hand.

"C'mon," he said. "Daddy has a surprise for you." Tara struggled for a moment to get to her feet, but she managed to do it on her own. She allowed Abel to pull her into the living room. She looked behind her and saw Jax grab Thomas. They turned the corner, where Jax's surprise awaited.

_Happy. Tig. Bobby. Chibs. Lyla. Rat. Brooke. _They all stood together in Gemma's living room. Tara's heart almost burst with the sentiment. They were there because they loved her. They loved Jax. Most of all, they loved their kids too.

_And I'm leaving them. _ Again, the old conflict rose within her soul. _Do I stay or do I go? _ She smiled in spite of herself. She shoved the question down into her gut, where it would reside until she was ready to deal with it. As it stood, in eight weeks or less, they would have their girls. Their health and welfare were the biggest wild card in their haphazard escape plan. If they were born term and healthy, they'd leave within three to four months of their delivery. If they were preemies, that would change everything. She wouldn't think about it now.

As they crowded around her with their well wishes and hugs, she accepted them.

"Hey little mama," Bobby said as he held her tight. She knew that Bobby knew. The scent of patchouli and blunts actually made Tara grin from ear to ear. The smell was so essentially Bobby that she couldn't help it. She rolled next to Tig. Next to him was a woman that Tara had never seen before. Her jawline was square and hard, and her shoulders were broad, but as a tremulous and cautious smile broke across her face, beauty unparalleled exuded from her soul. Tara's breath caught for a moment. Her energy was incredible, and Tara needed all the good energy she could get.

"It's a pleasure Tara." Her nervous dulcet voice filled Tara's ears. "Alex has told me so much about you."

"Alex?" Tara grinned as her eyebrow arched. Tig had the decency to blush. Again, Tara's breath caught. _He's in love, _Tara thought. _Tig is in love with Venus. _Her head swam, because there were obvious traits Venus had that other women didn't, but when he looked at her, it was love. Just like the love she and Jax shared. Tig said nothing, but his arm wrapped around Venus' waist. Tara was so caught up in the strange spell that was Venus and Tig that she didn't hear Jax come up behind her. When his arms cradled her belly, Tara jumped a little. The babies wiggled again, but as Jax rocked Tara slightly, they seemed to calm.

"It's a pleasure to meet you too, Venus," Tara replied sweetly, and Venus, who seemed to be waiting for Tara's approval, visibly relaxed. She leaned into Tig, and they moved aside for a moment, and Lyla stepped forward. She didn't even get to Tara before she was crying. The two women embraced tightly, and Tara's eyes overflowed as well. Just a few years ago, Tara hated Lyla on sight. The rail thin, gorgeous porn star was everything Tara thought she detested. But when the stunning blonde came to her defense against one of Jax's croweaters, she began to soften; then, once she married Opie, and Tara saw the kind of mother she was, Tara gained respect for Lyla. Now, as the leader of Red Woody Productions, Tara and Jax entrusted part of their financial future in Lyla, and Tara had no doubt that Lyla would succeed.

The women broke apart, and Happy, Rat, and Brooke gave their well-wishes. Tara smiled and nodded and thanked everyone, but her body ached. Unaccustomed to standing and moving, Tara found she grew tired easily. The boys played happily with Ellie and Kenny, and while everyone began to partake in food and conversation, Tara headed towards the back yard for a moment. She opened the door and was plunged into the dark California night.

This was Gemma's haven. When she was alive, the Queen of SAMCRO allowed her green thumb to run wild. It was a strange and wonderful jungle that grew in Gemma's yard, and even in her absence, someone ensured that the tiny green lives she'd nurtured. It didn't even seem like California back there. It was another world.

"Ah, lass, I see ye need a break too." A familiar voice filled the garden, and Tara instantly relaxed. There were only two men in the world that could induce that feeling: her husband and Filip Telford. The black clad Scot walked from the shadows towards her. The distant street lights softly illuminated Chibs rugged face.

"I'm so glad to see everyone, but I've been in a hospital room for what seems like an eternity, mostly alone or with small groups, and to have to see everyone, while absolutely wonderful, is just…hard." Tara lowered herself to one of Gemma's solid wood Adirondack chairs.

"For more than yer guests understand," Chibs countered. "Those wee lassies exhaust you, no doubt, but I think the fact that yer leaving weighs more heavily than they do." Tara nodded, unable to speak. Chibs was absolutely right. Since she'd arrived again in Charming, SAMCRO was family. Even with every ounce of hell that she'd been through, the people inside Gemma's house were the ones that didn't waiver from her during the hardest time of her life. It was a lot to take in.

"I canna say I'm happy about ye going, Tara," he said low. Tara could tell that tears stuck in his throat. "But I understand it. I do. This life we lead, the life SAMCRO is, it isn't conducive to family. Look at everyone we've lost, in one way or another. The kids playing with your boys don't have their mother, their father, or their grandfather because of the Sons." Tara nodded. Despite the feelings of guilt, Chibs' words made that feeling ebb away. After Chibs' words died in the darkness, they just sat in silence.

"Babe," Jax's voice and the backdoor spoke together as he opened it.

"Yeah?" Tara responded.

"Another person is here," he said. "Can you come in?" Tara looked over at her husband. Standing in the threshold of the kitchen door, the same street lights that illuminated Chibs made Jax seem on the verge of angelic.

"Sure," she replied, "On three conditions. One: you and Chibs have to help me up from this chair. I forgot how low these chairs were." Jax came out, and Chibs stood in front of her. Wordlessly, both men held their hands out to her.

"Damn. That was fast," Tara giggled. She took the hands and stood.

"The next condition?" Jax asked.

"I need to rest," Tara answered. "So y'all can celebrate all you want, but I have to go to bed soon."

"Done. And three?"

"Three is: no more surprises after this one. I just can't." Jax nodded and grabbed her by the hand. Quietly, Jax led Tara to the kitchen. At first, no one was there, but within seconds, the next guest had arrived.

"Hi mami," Nero Padilla whispered. His vocal cords wouldn't allow anything louder than that. Having not seen her since the funeral, he was shocked by her pregnant state, but he was more scared and nervous than anything. He shifted uncomfortably. Tara began to shake as every image of the night of Gemma's death haunted her. The memories were suspended between Nero and Tara, and neither one of them could say a damned thing.

"Nero," she said, gobsmacked. She couldn't move. She couldn't breathe. All she could do was stare at him.

"What the hell is going on?" Jax asked as he followed Tara inside. The tension in the room was palpable, and Jax had no idea the reason why. As he stood by Tara's side, he could feel her trembling terribly. She stared at Nero as if he were a ghost.

"I'm tired of running Jax," Nero answered quietly. He leaned against Gemma's countertop. "I can't put on a straight face anymore."

"Nero, no…" Tara's voice was a whisper.

"I'm sorry, Tara," Nero replied. "I have to do this. I have to. You did _nothing _wrong. You couldn't help how everything unraveled. You couldn't even move."

"What the hell is he talking about?" Chibs' asked. Tara shook harder. Jax embraced her with his left arm. His anxiety was building, but hers seemed to be overflowing.

"I'm begging you, Nero, please…" Tara croaked as she began to cry. "My daughters. My sons. Please. Just stop."

"I'm not trying to hurt you, Tara," Nero said. "But he has to know. You both need a clean slate, especially since those girls are coming any minute now."

Jax tried to keep his voice at an even, normal tone.

"What the hell are you trying to say, Nero? You know Tara just came home tonight. I don't know what's so fucking important that you're putting my wife and daughters in danger."

Nero's massive brown eyes were even bigger with guilt and ghosts as he replied, "It's your mother, Jax," he stated. "I know what happened to her—and to Tara too."


	16. Chapter 16

Jax Teller sat by his wife's side, his heart and soul jumping in thousands of directions, unsure of what to feel. Nero's story was a long one, full of heartbreak and love and hate and insanity, and his emotions headed off in every single direction. Tara had cried off and on throughout, and every single time she did, he reached out and held her hand. No matter where his mind took him, he knew one thing: after everything his wife had been through, he was going to let her go again. Ever.

They'd moved into the dining room. Lyla had taken the boys upstairs. She'd be staying in the guest room tonight, just as she had many, many nights over the last few months. Ellie, Kenny, and her son, Piper, along with Abel, were snuggled together on makeshift pallet beds. They all wanted to sleep with Thomas, they'd said. Lyla's heart swelled with pride and happiness as she watched them sleep. _I'm doing right by you, Opie. I just wish you were here. _

Downstairs, the scene was far less serene. Bobby and Happy sat in the backyard, away from the fray. Rat and Brooke thought it best to leave. The table was surrounded by the rest: Jax sat at the head of the table; after all, that was the place to which he was accustomed, and Tara sat to his right. Chibs sat to Tara's left. Between the two men, she felt safe. Across from them were Tig and Venus. Nero sat opposite Jax, at the other end.

They'd sat there for what seemed like forever, listening as Nero relayed the day's events from his point of view. Nero watched with haunted eyes as each person wore different masks of sadness, terror, and agony. The only gaze he couldn't meet was Tara's. He felt as if he was tearing her life apart, but she had to understand how his soul was ripping in two.

They didn't know what he'd done between leaving Diosa and coming there. They didn't see his drive to TM, to Unser's trailer. He drove carefully into the parking lot, which was empty. It was strange for an afternoon, but Chuckie came out of the office. It was as if the poor man was begging for someone to talk to, and Nero was, unfortunately, it.

"They're all getting ready for Tara to come home," Chuckie said. There was no hello, for hellos weren't always needed in a place like TM.

"I know," Nero said with a half-smile. "Jax told me. She and the babies are finally strong enough to come home."

"Yep. Can you believe they're having twin girls?" Chuckie asked with a broad smile. As strange as the man was, Nero couldn't help but like him. He looked more proud uncle than fingerless weirdo. It was actually a wonderful sight to see.

"I can't. We need some feminine energy around," Nero said quietly. Chuckie nodded. "Is Unser home?"

"Yeah, he's here. He never leaves any more. If it weren't for Brooke checking in on him, he'd be dead long ago. He can't get over Gemma, you know?" Chuckie's eyes misted with tears. "There are days I just can't get over it either. She was my best friend."

Nero's shoulders sagged with that statement. He didn't know what was worse: Unser not leaving his trailer or Chuckie's declaration of best friendship. It was strange the bond the three men shared. All of them loved Gemma more than any one of them realized, and it bonded them together in the craziest way possible. He reached out and quickly hugged the smaller man.

"I'm gonna check on Unser, ok?" Nero asked. Chuckie nodded and broke the brief embrace. Wiping away his tears, he trudged back into TM's office and carefully shut the door behind him. Nero walked over to Unser's trailer and knocked on the door. There was no answer. Carefully, he turned the latch to the door, and to his surprise, it turned. He walked into the tiny, confined space, and a smell like no other attacked his nostrils. A cross between dead body and dumpster, it took everything Nero had not to vomit.

"Just put the food down on the floor, Brooke," Unser said. The voice sounded like broken granite drenched in tequila.

"It's not Brooke, Unser. It's Nero." It took Nero a moment to find Unser amongst the garbage and filth, but hiding back in the tiny bed was Unser, former Chief of Police, former SAMCRO ally, and former human being. What resided in his place was a broken, disgusting back of bones. Chemo had stopped seven months ago; Unser no longer wanted to fight. Perhaps that was the greatest irony of all: Stage IV cancer wasn't killing him any faster than before, even though he welcomed death now.

Unser sat up slightly, and for the first time in eight months, the two men met eyes. Nero was shocked at Wayne's condition, even though he shouldn't have been. Nero stared as Unser tried to get to a sitting position, his eyes filming up with tears as he did so. If he had to guess, Wayne Unser maybe weighed a hundred pounds soaking wet.

The old man's skin hung loosely on his bones, and it was a sickening shade of yellow. _Liver failure. _Nero recalled many a time where, when Lucius was ailing, he'd turn a slight tinge of it. Wayne almost glowed with the color. _The cancer must be spreading, _Nero thought. Hundreds of pill bottles were scattered about the trailer. All of them were full. Wayne hadn't taken a single one. Nero shook his head with the knowledge. Unable to sit up past his pillows, the dying police officer simply leaned back, resigned to his limitations.

"Whaddya want, Nero?" The pained whisper filled the small space.

"Do you think you can get outside, mano? Maybe we can talk out there?" The smell was getting to Nero. He didn't know how much longer he could tolerate it.

"I can't move Nero, and honestly, there's nothing to say. It's been eight months since she's been gone, and neither one of us stopped it. I don't need to wax philosophical or try to make sense of it. We didn't save her. Neither you nor me. That's all there is to it. I mean, I know you loved her, but you didn't know her like I did. I've loved her since I was nine years old. I should've stopped the bullet."

"Wayne, look, I…"

"No," Unser uttered. It was a simple word in a complex conversation, but the tone of Wayne's voice made it just as fucked up as everything else he'd said. "If you came here for resolution, you're not getting it. If you came here for justification, that's not happening either. If you came here for a confession, I'm not a goddamned priest, and I don't believe in God anymore anyway, so you're at the wrong place."

"But…"

"Get the hell outta here, _vato._ Let me die the way I want, without you here to dissect every feeling and emotion I've had since Gemma left my life. Let me be. Go." Wayne turned his back, and with that, Nero knew it was a lost cause. Silently, he left the putrid trailer and closed the door tightly behind him.

"Nero!" He could hear Chuckie's lost voice in the otherwise silent parking lot, but he ignored it. He just walked to the gorgeous 1963 Impala that had become a trademark for the old gangster. He got in and slammed the door. Within seconds, he'd cranked the old pale blue muscle car to life and fled TM. Chuckie stared out into the haze of dust and haze that followed, his heart close to breaking, but that was nothing new. Defeated, he went back into the office he once shared with Gemma and slammed the door closed behind him.

Nero sped through the streets of Charming, not caring what happened anymore. Hidden beneath his black button up was an old Glock. All he had to do was get out of Charming city limits. He knew exactly where to go. He drove with an almost carefree abandon through the roads and backroads. Within twenty minutes, he was already out of town. He was maybe fifteen minutes from where he needed to be, and at ninety miles an hour, that time was cut in half.

Gemma had spoken of the rock many times. They'd driven past it more times than he could count. The Impala screeched to an angry stop in front of it. Nero cut the engine, and slid carefully across the leather seat. He got out of the car, closed the door carefully, and sat.

_**J.T. 11-13-93. **_The anarchy symbol mocked him as his eyes filled with tears. He laughed out loud in the quiet.

"Do you see what the hell you've done, John Teller? The madness you created?" Nero spoke as if the dead man stood in front of him. "Your son is lost, your wife is dead, and your grandchildren are within a breath of losing everything, maybe even their lives. Your need to belong, your sick need to be a hippy Robin Hood vigilante has fucked your family more than you'll ever know."

Crying came easily as he reached into the waistband of his black slacks and pulled the Glock.

"Do you see what you've reduced me to? You, a dead man. I watched Gemma die in front of me, and I didn't move. Just a foot away, Tara…she fuckin' killed her. I thought she killed her goddamn it! Wendy was right to do what she did…but…but…" He broke into sobs. "Gemma wouldn't have been that manic or crazed if it weren't for you. You drove her to Clay. Clay drove her to madness, and she drove me to…to…love. Love like I have for my son."

Nero slid the barrel of the gun into his mouth. It was warm and smelled of his cologne, and he was amazed that it fit so well between his teeth. The tears slid into his mouth too, and melded with his sweat, his fear, and his self-loathing. His finger shook as it slid around the trigger._ This is it,_ his brain screamed. _I love you Lucius._ That was his final thought as his entire body trembled as he squeezed it. _Boom._

_I'm not dead. _Nero's eyes opened, even though they shouldn't have. He pulled the gun from his mouth, incredulous. Breathless, he turned the Glock over, and as he inspected it, he wept harder.

"The trigger fucking jammed," he said to the group. His tale recounted, the members of SAMCRO, Tara, Venus, and even Lyla, who had made her way downstairs, sat, transfixed by his storytelling. Lyla, Tara, Tig, and Venus wept openly, their hearts broken by the pain inflicted upon this man. Tara knew who Nero was the minute she'd met him. Souls like his, they weren't easy to come by. They were quiet and strong, but even the quiet and strong had breaking points.

Nero's chocolate eyes met Jax's blue ones, and Tara watched her husband carefully. Throughout Nero's tragic tale, she'd felt his grip tighten on her hand more often than not. She'd squeezed back, grateful for his touch. During the story, his gaze didn't leave Nero's, but now, as they were locked in a silent battle, Jax was the first to look away. Without speaking, Jax stood. Tara closed her eyes. _He's leaving, _she thought. _He's gone. Again. _

The strangest thing happened while Tara wasn't looking. The familiar, beautiful sensation of her husband's rough hands cupping her face caused her eyes to fly open. There was no time to think or to reason or to even question, she just stood slowly, terrified of the sensations in her heart.

"Please Jax," she whispered. "I can't lose you."

He answered by kissing her hard. His lips met hers, and to her shock and amazement, they were trembling, seeking a return of love, of trust, of everything he'd lost. She was the only one that could give that to him. His arms embraced her completely, and as he broke away, he gently touched her forehead with his.

"You're not going to lose me, Tara," he whispered back, and a jolt of electricity shot through her. Her eyes widened as she realized he spoke the truth. For a moment more, they stood, not caring about anyone else staring on at that moment. It was just them. A kick in her gut brought them crashing back to reality, and while Jax smiled slightly, Tara turned to face Nero. To her shock and embarrassment, there wasn't a dry eye at that table. She looked to her left and noticed Bobby and Happy had somehow entered the space. Where and when that happened, she didn't know, but they had dissolved into tears as well, even though they tried valiantly to hide them.

"I'm sorry, Jax," Nero whispered. "I couldn't save her. Not what after what she did."

Tara moved from Jax and walked to Nero. There were no words. She stood by his side, and she gripped his hand. He looked up at her with such gratitude, she felt her soul shatter into a thousand tiny pieces.

"I love you, Nero Padilla," she stated firmly, even though her voice quaked. "You didn't ask to be in this life any more than I did, but you're here." She looked at Jax for a moment. "Love does that. It makes us fearless and thoughtless, and in that one person, we see everything we want and need, regardless of the consequence." She looked into Nero's eyes again. "The only difference you and I have is that you never wavered. You never questioned. You never broke away. If I had your bravery, I wouldn't have tried to run. I set this bloodbath into motion. I ran to the DA because I wanted better for my kids. Not you. Never you. Gemma's death isn't your fault any more than it is mine, but the guilt we share will link us forever."

Nero stood then and took Tara into a fatherly embrace. They hugged for a moment, and with silent, mouthed _thank you, _Nero broke the hug and walked straight towards Jax. An inch or so taller than the younger man, Nero's backbone stiffened, and he met Jax's eyes without fear. The absolution he needed came from Tara; now, there was only one other opinion that mattered. Jax spoke first.

"Nero, I don't know what to say. My whole world has come crashing down again, and my brain is reeling." The end of the sentence was a choked whisper. "But nothing that you have told me tonight merits your death. Nothing that transpired makes me think you didn't try your hardest to change the hand Fate dealt."

"_Mano, _I…" Nero began, but Jax held a hand up.

"Please. Let me finish. I wish you'd told me sooner," Jax stated with a quick glance to Tara, "But I know why neither of you did. I know why Unser didn't. And Wendy…nothing I can even think of comes close to what I feel. I'm wrapping my head around the knowledge that my mother brutally attacked my wife…and that all this lands on me. It lands on me. Not you, not Gemma, not any single motherfucker standing here. Just me. Jax Teller."

A piercing ringing filled the room. _The fucking phone, _Tara silently bitched. Lyla ran to grab it. Tara could hear her saying hello, and she also heard her gasp. _Oh God, what the fuck is going on now?_ Tara thought. _What the hell else could be going on? _She watched as Lyla, about five inches smaller without her stilettos, carefully walked back into the dining room.

"Jax," she said cautiously, "It's Tyne Patterson. She said she needs to speak to you immediately."

Jax pinched the bridge of his nose and extended his hand. Lyla handed him the phone.

"Hello?"

"Mr. Teller," the DA's voice rang in his ears, "I haven't spoken to you in awhile. I trust your lovely wife is doing better. I heard she returned home today."

"Yeah," Jax countered. His brain was blistered with the evening's confessions, and now this woman was busting his balls. Fantastic. The word _yeah _was all he had.

"Good. I'm calling you from Teller Morrow," she stated. Jax silently wondered if the woman had any other tone other than regal. "The police are here, and I need you here now." There was a pause, and Jax stood silent and stoic. "You aren't being apprehended, Jax, don't worry. You'll be able to return home. You just need to get here as fast as you can. We have a situation."

"Alright," he said, resigned. "I'm on my way." He hung up the phone and placed it on the table.

"What's wrong, Jackie boy?" Chibs' deep voice pierced the quiet.

"Patterson is at TM. The cops are there. She needs me now."

"I'm going with ye," Chibs answered and went to Jax's side. Jax nodded. Happy, Bobby, and Tig crowded around behind them, and once again, Tara felt the strange pull to SAMCRO. The word _family _echoed over and over in her head.

"Nero, Venus, Lyla…can you please stay with my wife and the kids?" Jax walked towards Tara and embraced her tightly. When he pulled away, the familiar fear had crept into her eyes.

"Of course," the three of them said in unison. They looked at one another and knew instantly that they were just as much family as if they'd been blood. Tonight, the welcome home, the confessions, everything they'd heard and witnessed bonded them in something none of them could understand.

"I'm coming home, Tara," Jax said low. "I'm coming home to you, to my sons, and to my baby girls."

"Please Jax," Tara said. "Promise." She asked for a promise in world of broken promises, but it's all she needed. The trust and the hope that the man she loved would return to her arms and to their family. It didn't matter what happened in the meantime, as long as she knew he meant it, that was good enough.

"After what happened, after I found you and my mom…" Jax's voice cracked slightly, "In that hospital room, I promised you I wouldn't leave. And I won't. Unless the DA is tricking me, I have no reason to leave your side, and even then she'd have to fight like hell. I'm coming back to you, Tara. Always. No more bullshit."

"Wait." Tara walked over to the table and grabbed her purse. She searched through it, and she found what she sought. She waddled slightly as she walked back to him. "If Patterson gives you hell, give her this. There's a video of Juice in there she _needs _to see."

"What the fuck…?" Jax's question wasn't an angry one, just a confused one.

"I'll tell you later. Just trust me," she whispered. She asked Lyla to grab her charger. Lyla did, and she threw it in Jax's direction. He caught it easily, then kissed Tara deeply.

"I guess you've had more secrets in you than I knew," he said calmly. His eyes met hers, and she didn't look away.

"And you'll know them all, Teller. Just make sure you come back to me. Promise?" She touched his face once more. He squeezed her again, and began to make his way out the door. SAMCRO followed, and just as they got to the door, Jax turned and looked at Tara with enough love and adoration to take her breath away.

"I promise," he said with a smile. He opened the door and walked out into the night.

"Just make sure you keep it," she whispered back, and she turned back to the family she never dreamed she wanted, but now she knew she couldn't live without.


	17. Chapter 17

Blue and red lights illuminated the half-standing structure that was Teller Morrow. Reconstruction had begun where the Irish had destroyed everything. In the glow of the cop cars' blinking lights, Jax could see the progress that had been made. Having to balance Tara's hospital stay with matters with SAMCRO, Jax had barely paid attention to the growth and improvements made. _It looks good, _he thought as he parked his bike. The rumble of the other Sons' bikes quieted and ceased, and they walked together towards the officers that were scattered on the property.

In the center of the scene was Tyne Patterson, DA. Standing at an amazingly small five feet tall, she opted for sensible looking four inch heels. As the Sons crowded around her, she felt tiny, but her presence made up for it. Her ebony eyes didn't miss a thing: she saw the tight lines of their mouths, the contemptuous stares that bore into her. It didn't matter; Tyne Patterson didn't get to her station in life by being easily frightened.

By her side stood a tall and wiry female officer. Her alabaster skin stood out in stark contrast to her black uniform. Her dark eyes and dark hair didn't relieve the severity of her clothing; in fact, it only made her look more austere and fierce. The tiny district attorney and the tall law enforcement officer made a formidable pair.

"You called?" Jax drawled. Patterson wanted to roll her eyes, but she maintained her stately demeanor. She hated this side of Jax. She detested the holier-than-thou arrogance. She couldn't stand the blank, lackluster stare. Her memory flashed to the night of Gemma Teller-Morrow's death. For a moment, Patterson recalled the vulnerability, the fear. She remembered the terror in his as he watched his mother's body being transferred into a body bag. She remembered his protectiveness over his wife. _What a difference eight months makes, _she thought.

"I made her call," the other woman stated. Jax turned his gaze towards her, and he smirked.

"And who the hell are you?" Chibs asked before Jax could even utter a word.

"Althea Jarry," the woman stated firmly. "I have taken Eli Roosevelt's place." Chibs whistled slightly through his teeth, which garnered a dark glance from the newly minted sheriff.

"Great," the Scot said low, "As if Charming didna hae enough issues."

Althea's blood boiled as Chibs' words echoed, but part of her shuddered as his voice reverberated against her skin. Her body immediately wondered what it would be like to take him to bed, but her ego wanted to punch him in the face. Before she said something she'd ultimately regret, she turned her attention to Jax.

"Mr. Teller," Althea began, pointedly ignoring Chibs' sexist statement. Jax interrupted.

"What the fuck is so important that you called me tonight? My pregnant wife just came home from the hospital. We were celebrating. I should be there, not here, so this shit better be good."

The sheriff's eyes grew narrow with fury. With an exasperated sigh, Jarry picked up where she left off. "I called DA Patterson because we've got more dead bodies. Since SAMCRO has grown accustomed to arranging funerals, I figured I'd let you get a jump on it." Jax had the audacity to glare at her, even with the news she'd just delivered. The venom in her voice was unmistakable, but Jax's superiority complex had annoyed her to no end.

Patterson watched the uncomfortable exchange between the two of them. She was still feeling the wrath from the school shootings, and the murders of Gemma Teller-Morrow and Wendy Case were still unsolved. She sighed. Charming had, in the matter of a few years, gone from quaint, secretive town to full-on gangland. The fact that the Sons of Anarchy were still driving through the streets of Charming and not locked back up in Stockton was a testament to her patience, which was wearing very thin. _If Teller's lips curl in that arrogant snarl one more time…_

"There was a call placed at 2200 hours," Jarry began. "The caller did not identify himself. He just stated that shots had been fired at Teller-Morrow. I sent officers out immediately," she efficiently explained. "Once here, my officers called in what they found: two homicide victims, both male, appeared to be on the property."

"What did you say?" Tig's voice broke the tense moment. "What the fuck do you mean, homicide victims?"

Patterson turned her dark eyes onto Tig's face. Unlike his President, his countenance was sincere. Fear blanketed his eyes and looked as if it would break his heart. Her heart went out to him, but she would never acknowledge it.

"She means dead bodies, Mr. Trager," Patterson responded. "Both shot, at point-blank range."

"Standard 9mm got them," the sheriff said. She began to walk the property as Jax and the others followed. "One Chuck Marstein and Wayne Unser."

"Jesus Christ," Chibs whispered. All of the Sons seemed to stagger slightly in varying directions. Tig brought a hand to his face, and Jax could hear Happy's growl of fury rumbling. Bobby was speechless, as was Chibs. The only other words uttered were from Jax.

"Chuckie," he murmured, and then, "Wayne." His leonine head bowed, unable to do anything else. Althea Jarry watched as he looked back up and met her eyes. "Do you have any clues at all as to what happened?"

"A 9mm got them both," Jarry stated. "Mr. Unser appears to have been first. There appears to have been no struggle, even though the victim was awake at the moment of death."

Jax's breath caught in his lungs, and for a moment, Nero's story played over and over in his psyche. _If you came here for resolution, you're not getting it. If you came here for justification, that's not happening either. If you came here for a confession, I'm not a goddamned priest, and I don't believe in God anyway, so you're at the wrong place. _Jax said a silent prayer, even though he wasn't much of a believer in God sometimes. _Please let him be at peace. Just let them all be at peace. _

"The most disturbing part of this is that the killer left a calling card," Patterson's voice broke Jax's silent prayer. Her dark, almost black eyes penetrated Jax's aching soul, and his blue eyes were wide with a strange mix of agony and apathy.

"Whaddya you mean, a calling card?" Chibs' voice strained with unshed tears.

"You will have to see it to understand," Jarry interjected. Chibs threw her a dark look.

"I didna ask ye," Chibs countered. His dark eyes were unfathomable, and Althea Jarry wanted tohate everything about him, but the attraction she felt was palpable. _Althea, stop, _her head demanded. _This is not the one you want to mess with._ Her gaze fell on Bobby and Happy, and she flicked her eyes back to the Scot. _This is exactly who you want to mess with, _her libido countered. Chibs smirked at her and directed his gaze back to Patterson. The DA's eyes were focused on Jax.

"Do you think you're up to seeing it?" Patterson questioned softly. "It's not pretty."

Jax laughed. The sound could only be compared to brittle glass shattering.

"It's not pretty?" Jax giggled. The sound verged on hysteria. "Lady, have you seen our lives? Just a few months ago, my mother was shot to death, and my wife was almost beaten to death." He paused for a moment, his brain recalling Nero's story from before, then he continued. "My ex-wife was burned alive in a meth trailer, and you're telling me this murderer left a calling card, and you're asking me if I can handle it?"

"Jackson, I…" Patterson began.

"Just fucking take us to it," Jax interrupted. "I think we can _handle _it."

With a quick, perfunctory nod, Patterson's heels clicked across the Teller-Morrow parking lot. Jarry quickly followed, and the Sons joined the line. They walked to the office first. The door was wide open. Jax could easily see Chuckie's body sprawled on the floor. His white shirt was covered in dark, dried blood. As Jax stepped closer, he spied a single bullet hole in Chuckie's chest. Lifeless brown eyes stared up at the ceiling, and Chuckie's mouth hung agape.

"Where are his hands?" Bobby finally spoke. Jax's eyes went to where Chuckie's hands were supposed to be—hands Gemma had bought him—they were gone. Blood was splattered on the wall and caked the floor. It looked as if the accountant had struggled mightily. The desk was overturned, and papers were everywhere.

"Where's this callin card ye spoke of?" Chibs questioned. Patterson didn't look in his direction.

"That's with Unser," Jarry stated. Chibs turned his hard eyes on the officer, but he didn't speak. Their eyes met for a moment, and he smiled coldly. He assessed her boldly, his gaze travelling the length of her. He didn't have to speak; it was obvious that, through the anger and the pain he was feeling, he wanted her. Jarry felt her breathing turn shallow.

Again, Patterson led the way as they approached Unser's trailer. Nero's story reverberated in Jax's ears.

_You wouldn't believe it if you saw it, mano. It was some fucking hoarder shit, fucking unbelievable. _As Patterson gracefully spanned the length of the parking lot. Jax followed closely behind, while the rest of the Sons hung back, as did Althea.

The smell his Jax before he even made it to the trailer. It truly was a mix of garbage, vomit, and dead bodies. Jax knew Nero had been there earlier that day, so the dead body smell was not from Unser's corpse. The closer they got, the more the smell turned Jax's stomach. The nausea crept up his throat, and he did everything possible to swallow it down.

"The confines are small, as you know," Patterson explained. "Only one person can go in. Others won't fit." Jax nodded understanding. With a deep breath, he climbed the rickety metal steps. When he entered the trailer, he actually gasped.

To say the trailer was disgusting was a massive understatement. Garbage lined the walls, the counters, the floor. Mountains of rotting food covered the counter. An army of roaches covered Jax's white sneakers. The smell was overwhelming. Jax stopped for a moment and was unable to breathe. He walked carefully, afraid to fall, and he made this way back to Unser's bedroom. What he saw almost made him drop to his knees.

"Oh my God," Jax whispered. "What the fuck?" Sobs were trapped in his chest and his throat as he neared.

Unser was sprawled on the bed, a bullet hole between his eyes. His brains and his blood soaked the dirty pillowcases, and like Chuckie, his eyes were open, looking heavenward, and his mouth was agape. That wasn't what made Jax's heartbeat quicken and his belly gurgle. The massive gashes in Wayne's chest and stomach made Jax physically ill. Despite his shock, Jax stepped closer to gain a better view.

_Izzy_. The name was carved in Unser's skin. Hatred flooded Jax's veins and oozed from his soul as he looked around the room.

_Your boys are next_. On the wall, the words were written in Unser's blood. Jax's anger turned into fury. Without another glance, Jax stormed from the tiny trailer and spilled out onto the blacktop. Chibs, Bobby, and Happy looked at him expectantly as he exploded into the night.

"My boys are fucking next, Patterson?!" Jax screamed. "What the fuck?"

"Jackson," the DA began in an infuriatingly calm tone, "Sheriff Jarry secured a protective, around-the-clock detail for your home. They have already arrived. Your family is intact and protected."

"Sure they are," Chibs chimed in sarcastically.

"Bobby, Happy," Jax began barking orders. "I need you to grab Rat and Quinn for our own protective detail. I'll be coming back shortly with Chibs." Both men nodded and broke from the group.

"There's no need for them to be there," Althea protested. "My officers are capable of watching them."  
It was that moment that Chibs lost his cool and bridged the gap between them. They were barely an inch apart. Althea felt Chibs' chest heave against hers, and the sensation was exhilarating.

"Ye know," he whispered. "Maybe ye should step outta things that don't concern ye. Tara is the wife of my President. If he says we protect them, we fucking protect them." His eyes glared dangerously, but Althea felt no fear. If anything, Chibs' hot-blooded Scot temper was sexy. She smiled coldly at him, but she didn't move.

"Then I guess we'll be working together," Althea defiantly whispered. Without another word, Chibs watched as she pivoted on her heel and walked away. _Jesus Christ, _he thought, _that ass is amazing._ Patterson admired the sheriff's gumption, but she knew it didn't make a difference; SAMCRO was hell-bent on their own vengeance, and there wasn't a cop alive that could stop them.

"Is that all, Patterson?" Jax asked. "I have to get back to my _wife._" Patterson crossed her arms under her substantial breasts and stared at Jax.

"No, it isn't," Patterson stated firmly. "There's a killer on the loose, and apparently, his vise is SAMCRO. Do you think he has anything to do with the string of murders and violent crimes that have rocked Charming?"

Jax was study in poker face as he shrugged. "I don't know, but I intend on finding out."

Patterson's large, emotionless smile flashed in the darkness. "I recall a similar promise made eight months ago; a promise that has yet to be met. What makes me think I can trust you?"

Jax glared at her as he reached into his deep pocket. He pulled out Tara's phone.

"What is this?" Patterson questioned. Jax's hands drove into his pockets.

"Honestly, I don't know," Jax responded. "There's a video from Juice Ortiz on it. Tara told me to give it to you in case you asked questions."

"You have no idea what this says? You didn't look?" Patterson was skeptical. She knew many men that would hack into their wives' phones, searching for incriminating evidence. The DA deserved more credit that it seemed.

"I only know exactly what you know. I trust my wife," Jax stated.

Patterson nodded and took the phone. There was no goodbye. Jax simply turned and left, with Chibs hot on his heels. She watched the President and Vice President of SAMCRO rushed to their bikes, cranked them, and drove into the darkness. Shaking her head, she walked back to the officers documenting the murders. Tomorrow morning, she'd view the video. Tonight, it would take everything she had to clean up the mess that SAMCRO made.


	18. Chapter 18

It was a beautiful night. Tara sat on the Adirondack chair she had so recently vacated. The air was filled with the scent of Gemma's roses. In the past few days, her mother-in-law loomed in her mind. Tara didn't know if it was because the twins were so close to being born, but she welcomed it. Most of the time, the memories were the good ones; she fought like hell to shove the bad down.

Tara watched as the girls kicked mightily within her belly, and she smiled sweetly. She loved to watch them move, and she relished every moment of it. She knew this pregnancy would be her last. Two boys and two girls were more than enough, and she wasn't up to another high risk pregnancy. Tara stared out at the moonless horizon and said a silent prayer that Jax would be by her side for this delivery.

She had handed Jax the phone with Juice's confession. Now, it would be up to DA Patterson to absolve her husband of his crimes. She swallowed hard as she fought back tears. Stroking her rounded abdomen, she remembered his face as he confessed. She knew it was all a lie, but it didn't matter. In her opinion, Juan Carlos "Juice" Ortiz died for the club. Also she could do is hope Jax would understand it.

"It'll all be over soon, girls," Tara whispered. "Soon, we'll be on our way, and Charming will be nothing more than a memory."

"I don't think that's going to happen," a strange male voice stated. Tara jumped and looked around. She saw nothing. Her hands began to tremble as she began to stand.

"Who's there?" Tara was upright now, and her legs felt like spaghetti as she turned towards the direction of the voice. To her amazement, a tall, far too thin man stepped out from the shadows. His face and arms were covered in open sores, and his hair hung in limp, greasy strands across his forehead. Tara's heart pounded hard and fast against her sternum as he looked at her.

"Just what I was looking for," the man mumbled. "Teller's wife." His dark eyes gleamed with hatred and danger as he neared Tara. Tara returned his gaze with disgust, even though her body shook with fear.

"And who the hell are you?" Tara asked again. He grinned, revealing a semi-toothless smile.

"You can call me Izzy," he told her. "I'm the one your husband forgot about. To him, I'm just another asshole."

"What? I don't understand…" Tara began, but the question was a stupid one. She knew her husband well enough to know that he'd made many enemies.

"You don't have to," Izzy stated.

"What do you want?" Tara asked impatiently. She prayed the fear didn't reach her eyes.

"You," he replied firmly. "And your boys."

Tara didn't think, nor did she respond. Instead, she tried to run from him, but her pregnant frame made it difficult. Izzy ran after her and caught her arm easily. He held her tight against is wiry frame, and then Tara felt the barrel of his gun against her temple.

"Let me go," she almost screamed. Panic and fear waged war within her eyes.

"No Tara, no…" he said low. "You're not going anywhere. What you're going to do is take me inside. I want your sons. Then I'm going to take all of you to somewhere special. Somewhere quiet, secluded, and private." A rough calloused hand trailed beneath her breasts and then stroked her swollen belly. Tara shivered with revulsion. Izzy had the nerve to laugh as he pressed the gun against her soft flesh.

"Alright," she sobbed. "You should know I'm not alone though." Izzy laughed again, raising her ire.

"That's why you're going in front of me," Izzy explained. The sound made Tara's stomach churn. He moved the gun to the back of her head. "Go."

Tara walked carefully through the sliding door into the kitchen, then with a blood curdling scream, she slammed it shut. Izzy cried out in pain. Tara's eyed grew wide as she realized the reason for Izzy's agony; she'd slammed the man's hand in the door. Flashbacks to Clay's murder attempt filled her mind with aching irony. She didn't have time to dwell on it though; within seconds, Nero was there. His mouth was set in a grim line, and when he saw Izzy trying to gain entrance into the home, he lunged for Izzy's throat.

Tara used that moment to rush towards the living room. Street lights illuminated the room, relief washed over Tara as she saw Venus already there, eyes wide, poised to battle. Dressed in a long, black nightgown, Tig's love looked almost cartoonish. Had they been in any other circumstance, Tara might have giggled with embarrassment, but now there was no time for that.

"Tara, what the hell-?" Both women heard the sound of a bullet whizzing through a silencer. Tara closed her eyes and gritted her teeth.

"There's a man here. He wants me and the boys. Go get Lyla and lock yourselves up in the Tommy's room. Have her call 911." Venus hesitated.

"I can't leave you here, Tara. I can't leave your girls." Venus' eyes were wild with fury and fear.

"If you don't leave, my boys are dead. Go." Venus glanced for a second longer, looking as if she were weighing her options. Then, with an anguished glance, she turned and ran back down the hall. Tara spied a cell phone on the coffee table. She took the opportunity to grab it. Before she could use it, she felt the familiar steel of Izzy's gun at the base of her skull.

"What the fuck did you do to Nero?" Her voice was a soft whisper.

"Why don't you come and find out?" Izzy countered. He slid the barrel of the gun to the small of her back, urging her to move. Tara's daughters had stilled completely; it was almost as if they knew what was happening on the outside. Out of habit, Tara rested one hand on the top of her stomach; the other was underneath her abdomen. Beneath her hand, she felt her muscles tighten. A hard ache began in her back, and a wave of hardened muscles took her breath away. _That better not be what I think that is, _she thought as she walked carefully towards the kitchen.

As she entered the dining room, she could see what Izzy needed her to see, and it took everything she had not to scream again.

Nero Padilla, one of SAMCRO's most powerful and loyal allies, lay on Gemma's floor, his stomach bleeding heavily from a gaping bullet wound. He looked at Tara with large, sad eyes. His face was already turning gray. Tara knew that death was imminent for the former gangbanger. Her eyes filled with tears, knowing that just eight months ago, they were in opposite positions. He ran, but she knew why. _He thought I was dead, _she thought. _He is still alive, and I can't do anything about it. _

"That's what he gets," Izzy stated firmly, "For protecting you. Now it's just you and me." Fury lit up Tara's body and flashed in her eyes as she turned to face her would-be killer. He smiled toothlessly, while Tara did the math in her head. _Lyla would have called 911 by now,_ she thought, glancing at the clock on Gemma's dining room wall. _He thinks it was just Nero and me. I've got to stall him, then hide. _She glanced at the clock again. _I've got five minutes tops before they show. _Tara knew it would be the longest five minutes of her life.

"So what are you going to do now?" she challenged. Izzy laughed, then he stood tall and proud.

"I was hoping you'd ask," he replied. "I've been planning this since Wendy told me your good news." His eyes lingered on Tara's belly, which tightened again. Tara tried to breathe slowly as she glanced at the clock. _Five minutes since the last one._ Her heart pounded against her sternum. _Now isn't the time, girls._ _You're not ready, and neither am I. _

"First I'm going to fuck you," Izzy began to explain. He rested the silencer against her stomach. "Then I'm going to grab your boys and do the same to them." It was then that Tara eyes welled with tears. _Over my dead body, _she silently railed. Tears fell down her cheeks as the sick bastard continued. "Then I'll be merciful and kill them in front of you. Then I'll fuck you again and kill you."

"What did we do to deserve that?" Even though she was trying to stall him, she was genuinely curious. Before tonight, she'd never met the man. Before tonight, she'd never heard the name Izzy. Jax hadn't said it, neither had anyone else. Her brain strained to remember, but she was met with a black abyss of nothingness.

"You did nothing," Izzy said honestly. "Your husband went to great lengths to fuck me up." Tara looked at him in confusion. "When I found out I was Wendy's dealer, he threw a pool stick through my right nut." Tara grimaced, but she felt no remorse; all she could see was Abel's tiny, feeble body, struggling to breathe after he was cut from Wendy's body. _You deserved everything you got, you sick fuck, _she wanted to scream.

Izzy lowered the gun for a moment, and he stood dangerously close to Tara, so close her belly touched his. She wanted to lower eyes, but she couldn't. A movement so quick she thought she'd imagined it caused her to maintain her focus. Stealthily, Venus stepped from the shadows. Without a sound, she rushed across the room and repeated Izzy's movement from before. The barrel of Venus' gun was firmly lodged against Izzy's skull.

"You didn't think you were alone, did ya?" Venus' Southern drawl was full of venom. "Shows how ridiculously dumb you are. Drop the gun, you sonofabitch." Izzy dropped the weapon. Venus circled Izzy carefully. The Glock she held was still half an inch of his head. "Don't fucking move, you bastard." Tara grabbed his weapon and pointed it at Izzy's forehead.

"Look, I…" he sobbed. He didn't expect this. His plan was perfect, or so he thought. He'd thought everything through. _This shouldn't be happening, _he thought angrily. As he cried outwardly for forgiveness, he raged internally. _I hope you're fucking happy, Wendy. Karma is a bitch, huh? _

"I don't give a fuck," Venus snarled. Tara was completely taken aback. Her stomach tightened again, and the pain made her want to drop to her knees. Still, she stood, knowing that if she gave into the pain, Venus would turn her focus to her, not to Izzy. "I heard every word you said to this beautiful woman. You said you were going to _fuck her children_ _in front of her._" Tara shuddered in revulsion.

"Has that ever happened to you?" Venus continued. Her words were slow and measured. "It happened to me. My mama tossed me towards every sick fuck imaginable, all in the name of getting me straight. I was fucked over and over until I couldn't stand, and I still got fucked more." Venus' voice trembled for a moment, as did her lip, but she breathed deeply and continued. "I am going to blow your brains out, so no real mother has to hear that again."

She didn't hesitate. _It's him, or it's us._ The last syllable of Venus' statement still rang in the air, and it mixed with the pop of bullets. Blood and brains splattered on Gemma's floor as Izzy's body fell hard onto the tile. She blinked through the haze and assessed the damage. Izzy was lucky. Death was immediate.

"Oh sweet Jesus, Tara," Venus' shaky voice rose in darkened room. In the distance, she could hear the police sirens closing in. She could see Tara's chest was heaving. Another contraction gripped her as she lowered her right hand. It ached with the force of pulling the trigger. Her left hand went to her babies.

Venus never had time to shoot.

"Izzy would've gotten the gun from one of us," Tara explained. It sounded more like an explanation than an excuse. "And he would've killed us both, then Lyla and the boys. I couldn't do it anymore." Venus nodded in response. "I am tired of being the victim. I am tired of being hunted, and I am so tired of watching the people I love die. I couldn't do it again." Her hazel eyes went blank as she glanced at Venus. The next words were simple, quiet ones. "Oh God. Nero."

Tara dropped her gun and rushed to Nero's side. His face was devoid of all color, but his eyes, those gorgeous deep brown eyes Tara had always trusted stared at her. A soft smile played on his gray lips. He looked almost relaxed. Tara grabbed his hand. It was frozen. Her clothes were covered in blood, but she didn't care. All that mattered was this man. This man had been so good to Gemma, to her, and to Jax, and to see his life slipping away was too much.

"Hey mami," he croaked. "Are you okay?" Tara sadly smiled. Of course he was thinking of her instead of himself. That's just who Nero was. Her heart ached as a tear slipped from his eye.

"Yeah, I'm fine. The cops are coming, Nero. I'm sure there will be an ambulance too. We'll get you through this," she returned. "You're gonna be alright." She tried to reassure him, even though she knew it was a lie. The time to save him was ten minutes ago. Now, blood soaked the floor, more blood than even she'd realized. As much as she hated to admit it, Nero's minutes were numbered.

"You gotta do something for me," he whispered low. "Please make sure you watch Lucius." Tara's mouth gaped open for a moment. "I don't mean live with him. He's in a great place, with great care. Just make sure he stays there. Make sure he's safe."

"Nero, I…" Tara began, and Nero held up a hand.

"Jax knows what to do. I made him Lucius' guardian, in case something like this happened." Tara nodded and clutched his hand. Her gripped tightened as she fought another contraction.

"Your girls are coming tonight," Nero stated. Tara nodded again.

"I know they are," she answered. Nero looked up at the ceiling and his breaths became slower.

"When one door closes…" he began, but he never finished. Nero Padilla didn't die alone. His hand went slack, as did his mouth. Tara lowered his hand to the floor. She cautiously stood, careful not slide on the blood, and she made her way back to the living room. Venus sat on one of Gemma's couches, hands in her lap. Her eyes widened as she looked at Tara, but she didn't move. Izzy's lifeless body lay on the floor in front of her, and Nero's rested in the kitchen.

"Why don't you let Lyla know everything is..?" Tara didn't want to say _over. _It was far from over. "Just make sure she keeps the boys in the room until the police arrive." The sirens were very close now. The officers would infiltrate Gemma's home and turn it into a crime scene. There was now, officially, nowhere to go. The thought broke her heart. Unable to hold it in any longer, Tara fell to her knees and sobbed. She sobbed so hard she couldn't breathe, much less hear the door open. She didn't hear Chibs holler for her husband. She couldn't hear anything but her own anguish. _I can't lose anyone else, dammit. _

"Stop taking people from me!" she cried. "No more! I can't fucking do this!"

"Tara!" It was Chibs' voice she heard. "Jackie boy! Hurry!"

Tara heard the sound of Jax's sneakers running towards her, but the squeak of the leather against the tile ceased once he hit the living room. That's where the blood was. Jax went to his knees, so he could look at her.

"Oh my God, Tara, are you hurt?" Jax cried. His voice was jagged. Tara shook her head in the negative. He carefully tucked his index finger under her chin. The sadness in his eyes mirrored hers. In her peripheral, she noticed the blue and red lights flashing. _Of course you get here, after all the hard shit is done_, she thought.

"What happened?" Jax asked.

"Whatever it was, it killed Nero," Chibs said quietly. Jax tore his gaze from Tara's face and turned in the direction of the kitchen. All he could see were Nero's long legs and massive amounts of blood. It saturated his black trousers. Jax bowed his head.

"Mr. Teller," Jax heard the familiar voice of Tyne Patterson filled the broken space. He gritted his teeth.

He stood and stared at the smaller woman. She saw nothing in his eyes. Gone was the arrogant man of a couple of hours ago. Now in his place was the most broken individual possible. There something in Jax Teller that reminded her of her own son. _Maybe that's why I keep giving you these chances, _she thought. _I couldn't save my son. I think I can save you. _

"It seems like death follows you, Jackson," another female joined chimed. Jax didn't have to look in her direction. Chibs was in her face before he could turn her way.

"Look here, ye primadonna with a fuckin' badge," he practically yelled. "Sometimes ye need to learn when ta shut yer mouth." His face was barely an inch from Althea Jarry's, and she now stood, silent and shell-shocked.

"Tara," Patterson said calmly, "Please." She extended a hand, and with Jax extending another hand, Tara made her way to her feet.

"What the hell is that?" Chibs asked. The sound filled the room. It echoed heavily in the silence. "Is it tryin' ta rain?"

"No," Tara breathed heavily as yet another contraction rocked her. This one was harder and faster than the others. She turned to Jax, whose eyes were huge with a strange mixture of admiration, love, fear, and joy. "My water just broke. It looks like my daughters thrive on chaos, just like their parents."

Jax began barking orders. Tig and Venus would take Lyla and the boys to their home for the night. Chibs, Bobby, and Happy would come to Gemma's and monitor the investigation. Then, his blue eyes met Tara's and smiled so brilliantly, Tara heart ached. In the midst of this chaos, all he could see was Tara and his daughters, and the thought of that made him look sixteen again. _Thank you God, _she prayed. _Thank you for this man._

"Can you walk?" Jax asked. Tara nodded again. "Patterson, I trust that your questions can wait until my girls are born?" The DA nodded. Her gaze was joyful, even if she kept her mouth set in a grim line. They walked towards the door.

"I guess it's a good thing we never unpacked the car, huh?" Tara half-joked as she glanced down at her blood stained clothes. Jax looked down, ashamed. "Babe, I was joking."

"I know. I just can't help but feel like Fate is taking everything I love and turning it into something new," Jax said softly. It amazed Tara how poetic Jax could be. The rebel in him was an amazing writer; she knew that by sneaking peeks in his journals. Still, it always surprised him when he spoke like that. "One door closes…"

"Another opens," Tara finished for him, thinking of Nero's identical dying words. Tears were in her eyes as she and Jax walked away from the horror and the pain and took the small steps towards a new beginning.


	19. Chapter 19

"Damn, this is amazing," Tara sighed. The pain, which wreaked her body just moments before, was gone. Now the only thing the doctor felt was delicious numbness. The nurses helped her sit back, and she smiled gratefully at the anesthesiologist, Dr. Chen. "Thank you, Michael."

The slight Asian man smiled in return. "Glad I could help, Tara. Do you want me to send Mr. Teller back in?" Tara giggled. It always amazed her that the staff at St. Thomas called him _Mr. Teller. _Outside the walls of the hospital, she was always Dr. Knowles, and he was Jax. The reversal felt good.

"I don't think I have a choice," Tara said, only half-joking. She thought another murder was going to occur when they forced him out just a few minutes earlier.

"I'm not leaving my wife!" he'd yelled. "Do you know what she's been through?!" His blue eyes were filled with fire as he valiantly tried to control his temper.

"Mr. Teller," Dr. Chen explained, "It's standard procedure. We have to have as sterile environment as possible. As soon as we are done, you will be allowed back in."

"The entire procedure is about ten minutes," Tara explained through gritted teeth.

"I'm not leaving you," he repeated.

"This time you don't have a choice, Jackson," Tara's voice was drenched in agony as she flashed her hazel eyes at Jax. "The longer you fight, the longer I deal with this pain. The longer I deal with this pain, the more likely I am to get out of this bed and rip your face off. For once in your fucking life, will you just do as you're told?!"

"Ok, ok," Jax said begrudgingly, "I'll go." Disappointment was written all over his face, but Tara didn't feel any sympathy as another hard contraction raged through her tired body. Jax wanted to comfort her, but he knew how desperately she needed that epidural. "I'll call Chibs and see how things are going. But _I'll be right outside this door." _

If Tara's pain hadn't been so great, she would have loved the protectiveness Jax was showing. As it stood, the contractions were all she could focus on. When she heard the door close, she gestured to the nurses to help her shift upright. Within ten minutes, just as Dr. Chen had promised, the epidural was perfectly placed, and Tara had lost all sensation in her lower body. It was a beautiful feeling, and she silently cursed herself for not taking one with Thomas. _It would have been so much easier, _she thought. and the nurses left her, and Tara reveled in the few moments of silence.

Memories threatened to engulf her. _Gemma. _Thomas' birth had been hard, and she was the only one there. She had stuck by her side through the suffering, and she refused to leave her side. The stubbornness was a family trait. Jax was just like Gemma in that respect, and her heart ached with the realization. _How did we get to this point, Gemma? There was so much love between us. _Tara sighed heavily and let the tears flow. She couldn't fight them anymore. It was pointless. So many things she'd loved were now gone. The door swung open, and Jax sauntered back in, forcing her to forget the turmoil that had surrounded her.

"Did they hurt you?!" The edge of his voice and his anguished expression surprised her. He rushed to her side and grasped her hand tightly. His other hand stroked her hair. The intensity of his gaze made Tara want to look away, but she couldn't turn her eyes from him. He was everything, the only constant in her life, even when she was away from Charming.

"No, baby, they didn't hurt me," Tara whispered as her hand reached up to stroke his face. He kissed her gently, carefully, as if he was afraid he'd hurt her. Tears slipped from her eyes. _This is worth it,_ she thought. _This moment, every moment leading up to this second, and every moment after this...It's absolutely worth it. _

"Then why are you crying?" he asked gently as his lips left hers.

"There's just so much to forget," she murmured. "All the pain. All the sadness. All the death. There's just so much."

Jax sat heavily on the chair next to her. "You're never going to forget it, Tara. You just have to learn to deal with it, like I have." The hollowness in his eyes spoke more than his lips did. She could see that there were pieces of him were struggling to simply _deal with it._ Just twelve hours ago, they'd arrived at Gemma's. In the moments that had passed since, Jax learned Wendy killed his mother, and Tara and Nero had kept it hidden. He knew there was a connection with Juice, but he still didn't know what that was. Unser and Chuckie had been brutally murdered, much to her surprise, and to add to it, she'd murdered Izzy. Nero was dead too, and for what? She inhaled deeply. It helped her fight the dull apathy that was beginning to settle in her bones. .

"You want to know something, Jax?" she asked. Jax's blonde brows shot up. "I think I'm dealing with it better than you are."

Jax opened his mouth to respond, but a knock on the door stopped him. A tall, brunette nurse walked in and smiled at them both.

"My name is Grace," she said kindly. Tara's eyes lit up. _Grace. _Her mother's name. Her middle name. Immediately, a sense of calm enveloped Tara. It was almost as if a messenger had been sent down to remind her that her family was watching. All of them. _Mom. Dad. Gemma. Nero. Piney. Donna. Opie. _

"I'll be your nurse this morning," she stated, and Tara looked at the clock. _7:15. _The sun was just beginning to peek through the windows. She was amazed. The last day had gone so fast, and so much had happened.

Jax didn't miss the instantaneous shift in his wife's emotions. The nurse was tall and pretty, but she also looked very young. With her dark hair, fair skin, and slender frame, Grace reminded him of Tara. _That's no accident, _he thought. He looked Heavenward, and a stray tear travelled down his finely chiseled face.

"How's your epidural?" she questioned Tara.

"Wonderful," Tara said happily. It was true. She felt nothing. "It's pure magic." Grace giggled.

"Good. I have to check you," Grace responded as she donned a pair of gloves. Another knock on the door introduced another nurse. This one was smaller, darker, and older. She smiled at Tara and Jax.

"My name is Nerida," she said. Tara heard the lilt of a Spanish accent, and her eyes welled up. _Nero. _Again, she felt as if Divine Intervention was on her side. After gloving up, Nerida circled the bed and stood to Tara's left while Grace went to her right.

"We're going to check for dilation," Grace said quietly. The two women pulled Tara's legs apart. Jax shifted uncomfortably and shifted his eyes away. He began counting the tiles on the ceiling while the nurses did what they needed to do.

"You're a good eight," Grace said. "It shouldn't be too long now." Tara sighed with relief. The last few months had been hell, and those little girls had been what pulled her through the insanity. She rubbed her stomach. _Soon, it'll be over, _she thought sadly. _I'll never feel this again. _Jax covered her hand with his.

"Are you worried about them being early?" Jax whispered. He was. The memories of Abel in NICU rushed through his mind. He'd been ten weeks early, and he remembered the hell that followed. He remembered holding the tiny baby in his hands. The girls were going to be seven weeks early, which was an improvement, but there were two of them.

"There may be small problems," she replied. "But all the testing has shown them to be healthy. Neither girl has your family's condition, thank God. "They may need to gain weight. They may need help breathing, but they've been giving me Surfactant for a while, so that'll help with their lungs."

"Sur-what?" Jax laughed. He loved Tara's intelligence. In fact, it was her mind that he loved first. Her body definitely caught his attention, but his heart fell for her humor, her studiousness. The body and the face had always been a bonus.

"Surfactant," Tara giggled back. "It's a drug they give moms who may have pre-term labor. They're steroids that build up a baby's lungs. The girls have had that for a good couple of weeks now."

"I can't help but worry," Jax said with his head lowered. Tara reached out and stroked his blonde hair.

"This isn't Abel," Tara breathed. "And even if all the ultrasounds are wrong, we'll get through it, Jax. We got through Abel's birth, his kidnapping, your imprisonment, Clay, Gemma, Wendy…we've gotten through it all. And we'll get through this too, baby. We will. I promise."

"Are you making the promises now? Because I always break mine?" Jax's voice was broken as he began to sob. He shook fiercely beneath Tara's hand. "You deserve better, Tara. My kids deserve better."

Tara cried openly now. "Jax, don't…please."

"You probably wouldn't be in labor if it weren't for that fucking bastard Izzy," Jax continued. "I brought you hom—to Gemma's, with the intention of getting you to term, and we didn't even make it a few hours. I came home tonight to a dead man, a man you killed, to protect our kids. To protect me. He wouldn't have even touched you if I hadn't beaten the fuck outta him five years ago."

"He deserved it, Jax," Tara countered. "And it was five years ago. No one knew what the fuck he was doing, Jax. He was forgotten. I don't even know how he found us…he mentioned Wendy and talking to her, like recently."

Jax looked up at her. His brow knitted in confusion. He tried to process the words, but it wasn't happening. Tara shifted uncomfortably in the bed. Their conversation was forgotten as he watched her try to get comfortable.

"You ok?" he asked. It was Tara's turn to look confused.

"Yeah, no pain. I just feel pressure. Can you press the call button for the nurse?" Jax did as he was told. Within seconds, Grace entered the room again. With a brilliant smile, she clicked the call button off.

"I feel strange," Tara declared. "There's just all this—pressure."

"Okay," Grace said. She pressed the call button. Nerida entered immediately. It was almost as if she'd been waiting just outside the door.

"I'm going to check you again, Tara," Grace said kindly. Tara nodded. Again, Jax played the ceiling tile game.

"Well, Doc," Grace exhaled, "You're ten."

"What?!" Tara exclaimed, "It's been maybe ten minutes since the last time you checked me!"

"Epidurals do wonders sometimes," Grace smiled. "I forget that you typically take over _after_ the babies are born. This section of it isn't exactly your specialty."

"Not really," Tara answered with frightened eyes and a panicky grin. Grace grabbed the stirrups and connected them to the foot of the bed. Jax moved his eyes to Tara's face. The strange, scared countenance was gone as fast as it came, and now, the look was one of determination. She was ready. Jax's heart melted with the sight. He couldn't help himself as he kissed her brow.

"God, you're beautiful," he murmured. She gazed up at him. Without thinking, she stroked his face one more time.

"Nerida, can you call Dr. Vincent?" Grace asked. The petite woman nodded and went to the phone. Grace turned her eyes to Jax.

"Alright, Mr. Teller," she started. Jax held up a hand.

"Please, just call me Jax," he stated firmly.

"Alright, Jax," Grace amended, "You're going to help me. You're going to grab a leg while she pushes."

"Uh, I don't…um…I…I can't catch a baby," Jax stammered. Tara looked at her husband, astonished. She'd never seen him like this, blushing and confused.

"Isn't he adorable?" Grace giggled. Tara grinned deeply while Jax blushed deeper. He clutched her hand and stared at her face. For a moment, he was young again. His eyes glistened with unshed tears, and his grin was infectious. Wonder and excitement glowed from every pore of his body, and Tara's heart clenched. _There he is_, she thought. _There's the wonderful boy I remember. _ She brought his hand to her lips and kissed it.

"Don't be scared, Jax," she urged.

"Tara, I can't," he said low. His voice was actually trembling. Her heart reached out to him, but she knew what was holding him back.

"Dr. Vincent is on his way," Nerida stated. She looked at Grace. "Do you need me?" Grace hesitated and looked at Tara, who shook her head in the negative. Grace motioned for Nerida to leave, and she did.

"Are you gonna help me, Jax?" Grace inquired once more, and Tara clenched his hand. _He's terrified. Oh my God, he's actually scared. _Jax had never been scared to do anything. Ever.

"Jackson," Tara said carefully, "I know you're scared." Jax didn't interrupt her. Now she knew the fear was real. "I'm scared too, but I can't keep them in any longer."

Jax laughed, and Tara beamed.

"I'm petrified, babe," he admitted. Tara exhaled, shocked by the admission.

"I know. I am too. But I look at it like this: I wasn't there for Abel's birth. You weren't here for Thomas. Finally, we are here, together, giving our daughters everything we can. This is a new start. A new beginning. We're together. You can do this."

"Alright, Knowles," Dr. Vincent exploded into the room. "You ready to do this?" At six foot four, Dr. Vincent towered over Jax. His jet black hair was perfectly combed, and his ebony eyes didn't miss anything. He was lean bordering on sinewy, and there were many nurses that coveted Tara's doctor for a husband.

"Ready as she's gonna be," Grace quipped. Dr. Vincent gazed at her for a moment, then extended a hand to Jax.

"Jackson," he said kindly, "You ready for these girls?" Jax smiled nervously.

"I hope so," Jax returned. Dr. Vincent sat on the stool before Tara. She could see his eyes over her big stomach. Grace moved to Tara's right. She looked directly at Jax.

"You gonna do this?" she asked. "If not, I could get Nerida."

Jax stood. His shaking was visible. Tara noticed his trembling hands as he divested himself of his kutte. Carefully, he placed it on the chair and went to Tara's left.

"You don't have to do that," Jax stated. "I'm here." The smile that erupted across Tara's lips was nothing short of stunning.

"Knowles," Dr. Vincent began, "You remember the drill, right? Ten second, hard pushes. I'll tell you when to stop. Ok?" Tara nodded. "Ready Knowles?"

"It's Teller," she stated firmly. "Not Knowles. Teller." Jax simply stared at her, mouth agape. She'd never really cared to have his last name.

"Let's go…Teller," Dr. Vincent smiled, and with that came the first pushes. Tara bore down and pushed hard. Jax watched, transfixed by the moment. He'd never thought he'd be in this position. He never thought he'd be excited to watch something like this, but he was. Adrenaline ebbed and flowed within him with every single push. He looked up at Tara for a moment. Red-faced and exhausted, his heart went out to her. She was his only focus. He didn't notice Grace's call to the nurse's station. He didn't see Nerida walk back in and turn on the double warmers, one for each baby. All that mattered, all that ever mattered, was his wife. He'd forgotten that before. He knew he never would again.

"Tara," Dr. Vincent used her real name for once. "Next push, and Baby A's head will be out. I know you're tired, but you can do this." Tara grabbed the bedrails and pushed hard, and Jax couldn't look away. Suddenly, his daughter's head emerged. Another push came, and the baby's shoulders were visible. Another push brought the rest of her body forth, and to his amazement, Jax couldn't think of any other sight more beautiful or precious. A lusty cry erupted into the room, and Jax's breath caught in his throat. _My little girl. _Even covered in blood, she was gorgeous. Grace grabbed the baby and handed her to Nerida.

"She's beautiful, Tara," Dr. Vincent prompted. "Now, let's do it again." Despite the urge to follow his daughter to the edge of the world, he knew there was more to come. He locked eyes with his wife. She nodded her head and began pushing again.

"Whoa Knowles," Dr. Vincent said anxiously. "Stop."

"Stop?" Jax and Tara said in unison.

"Take short breaths, Tara," Grace coached. Tara listened.

"The baby is sunny side up," Dr. Vincent said. Tara knew what that meant. Her second daughter was looking upward instead of downward. She also knew what Dr. Vincent had to do to fix it.

"You're going to have to turn her, aren't you?"

"Yep. Thank God for your epidural. You're not going to feel much of this until it wears off. Deep breath."

It was the only warning she got. She felt slight pressure, but nothing serious. Jax looked faint.

"Good," Dr. Vincent said. "Push. Push now before she turns again." Tara pushed mightily, and within seconds, Jax saw another head, shoulders, and body. _Just like her sister_, Jax beamed proudly.

"Why isn't she crying?" Tara's voice was tinged with panic. She was met with silence. Jax's eyes doubled in size as he saw the cause of Tara's alarm. Her skin was blue-tinged. Her eyes remained shut. He watched helplessly as Dr. Vincent cleared her nose and mouth. Tara held her breath, closed her eyes and prayed. _Please God, please…watch over my girl. I really can't handle any more. Please, don't take her too. _

"That a girl," Dr. Vincent said as the sound of the infant's cry infiltrated the quiet. Tara broke down into tears, and when she opened her eyes, she saw her. The nurses began to clean her off while the doctor finished his work. Jax walked up to Tara. With a gaze of reverence, he leaned down and kissed her softly.

"Tara, you are the most amazing woman. Thank you for these girls. Thank you."

"You're welcome," she murmured. She looked so exhausted.

"Alright, doc," Grace interrupted, "Baby A is ready to go." Tara beamed as the nurse handed her daughter over. Jax said nothing. He just stood, starstruck, admiring the perfection of his daughter. He sat on the edge of the bed, next to Tara.

"And here's Baby B," Nerida chimed in, handing Jax the younger twin. Jax cradled her carefully. For a moment, the four of them sat, spellbound.

"I'm so glad they're not identical," Tara stated. "I'd never figure which one is which." Jax laughed.

"They're so tiny," Jax said. Tara set an appraising eye on her daughters. _This is where my specialty is, _she thought happily. To her amazement, her daughters were good. Tiny, but good. They were breathing on their own.

"Baby A was four pounds even. Baby B was four pounds, one ounce," Grace said.

"You're good, Tara," Dr. Vincent stated. "We're going to keep you in this room tonight, then transfer you to antepartum."

"Thank you," Tara whispered. Dr. Vincent smiled back, and without another word, he exited the room.

"I'm going to leave you alone," Grace said. "Just call me if you need anything." Tara nodded. Grace left, shutting the door quietly behind her.

"Good job, Dr. Teller," Jax teased. "They're beautiful, aren't they."

"Baby A is stunning. Baby B is gorgeous. Beautiful doesn't even describe it." Tara was in awe.

"Is that what we're to call them from now on?" Jax joked. "Baby A and Baby B?" Tara giggled and rolled her eyes.

"Of course not," Tara chuckled. "I have one name in mind, but I don't know how you feel about it."

"Same here," Jax stated.

"You go first," Tara requested. Jax took a deep breath. He looked down at his little girl. She had Tara's perfect nose and delicate lips.

"What do you think of Delylah Grace?" _Interesting name, _Tara thought_, the beginning is for Donna, and the Lylah was for obvious reasons. _

"I think that Lyla would love that idea. She's helped us so much. It's only fair, and it's a beautiful name."

"And yours?" Jax countered with a smile.

"Just tell me if you hate it, ok?" Tara asked. Jax nodded solemnly.

"Ophelia Rose," Tara said. She prayed it wouldn't get shot down. She'd thought of it all the time. It was the only name that made sense.

"We'd call her Opie for short," Jax said low. "I love it."

_He got it. _It was obvious he was fighting back tears. _I didn't even have to explain why. He just knew._

They sat in comfortable silence, taking in the beauty of their newest children. It was the closest to perfect they'd ever had. The last twenty-four hours had been both the worst and the best of their lives. _And we're still here, _Tara's thoughts rejoiced in her brain.

"Thank you Tara," Jax said.

"For what?"

"Giving me so much," Jax almost cried.

"You've given me just as much," she returned. His eyes sparkled as she spoke. She'd not seen him this happy since the moment he first met Tommy in prison. Her heart swelled with pride and happiness, and for the first time in a long time, she could taste freedom. She wouldn't allow herself to hope until they left Charming forever. _Seeing is believing, Jax. _

She wouldn't think of that now. Right now, in the moment, she would think of her blessings. _Jax. Delylah. Ophelia. Abel. Thomas._ In the eight months that had passed, they'd been inundated with insanity, but none of that mattered now. Tara knew she'd walk through fire for the man beside her and their children. It was her only constant. She watched as he kissed Ophelia's head. With bleary eyes, he looked at his wife. So man emotions ran through him, but he wasn't running anymore. The mother of his children, his wife had his entire soul.

"I love you, Tara Teller." The words were simple. Their meaning was not. They'd gone through complete and total hell, and now the proverbial light at the end of the tunnel was so close, they could taste it. S

"I love you too, Jackson Teller." There was no doubt about that. The path stretching out before them was filled with uncertainly, but they were going to make it, and even if they never left Charming, Tara knew now that she would stay, if asked. She'd follow him through hell again if he needed her to. She was his, had been since she was sixteen. "Always."


	20. Chapter 20

"Thank Heaven for little girls," Venus' dulcet voice rang out within the close confines of Tara's private hospital room. There had been an insane amount of people walking in and out, and while Tara loved that her daughters were getting such a warm and loving reception, she wanted just a little rest. The effects of the epidural were long gone, and her body ached terribly, just like Dr. Vincent promised it would. Still, she loved Tig and Venus, and she was happy to see them.

"Indeed," Tig whispered with a nostalgic smile. Tara had no doubt that Tig's twin daughters, Dawn and Fawn, filled his memory. Ophelia rested quietly in his arms, wide-eyed and completely awake. Both girls still had blue eyes, but Ophelia's were a darker blue, making Tara think that Opie's namesake would be a hazel-eyed girl, just like her Mama. Tara was shocked to see a tear roll down the biker's cheek. Her daughters had been in the world less than forty-eight hours, and she couldn't imagine life without them. Her heart broke for Tig. He didn't talk about his daughters at all anymore, and Tara suspected that it hurt too much. Her breath caught in her lungs as she remembered Jax's story of Dawn's death.

_Burned alive._ Tara's heart hammered against her chest. She closed her eyes to keep from crying. Her daughters were so precious, and she couldn't imagine anything happening to them. _Tig's daughter was precious too. _Tara's mind drifted to Fawn, and her heart broke further. With all she'd read of twins, she knew that Ophelia and Delylah would have a special, otherworldly kind of bond. _Who does Fawn have now?_ A chill raced down her spine. She opened her eyes and focused on Venus. Delylah was in her arms, sound asleep. Venus' grin was infectious. _What an amazing mom you would be, Venus. _Considering all she'd been through, it was amazing Venus was as wonderful as she was. _Life could've been very different for you. _Again, Tara's eyes filled with tears. _Will there ever be a time when I can feel true joy without remembering all the sorrow? _

"They're beautiful girls, Tara," Tig whispered. He walked over and handed Ophelia to her. Slowly, carefully, she took the baby in her arms and stared down at her. Her eyes were bright and alert. It was as if Ophelia had already lived lifetimes before this moment. The thought filled Tara's soul with warmth. Part of her truly wished it was Opie's soul she held in her arms. Little peaceful Delylah snoozed away with Venus, and suddenly, Tara felt surrounded by angels. It was an odd thought, but it was a good one, and Tara knew she could use all the positivity she could get.

A knock at the door startled her. Tig, ever the watchman, stalked over to the entrance, checking whomever was arriving. Tara's eyes darted fearfully towards that side of the room. All the insanity of the last couple of days had finally taken its toll on the good doctor. She felt anxious and scared. The last eight months had been filled with fury and hatred and murder. So many people she'd loved were gone, and she couldn't help but feel apprehension that everyone that remained would leave her too.

"Mama!" the joyful cry came before Tara could see him. _Abel. _Joy erupted on Tara's face. Unabashed tears flowed down her cheeks. The tiny blonde boy raced towards his mother and little sister. "Is this Opie? Or is it Delala?"

"Delylah, buddy. Not Delala." Jax's low, gravelly voice corrected sweetly. He'd rounded the corner with Thomas in his arms. Tara looked up, surprised at how big her baby boy looked in comparison to his sisters. Everything about him seemed larger: his huge blue eyes, his almost platinum blonde hair.

"I call her Delala. Lala. Lalalalalala…" Abel stated, and Tara knew immediately that the tiniest Teller had just earned a new nickname. _Lala. _Tara liked it already. Even if she didn't, she knew her eldest child wouldn't leave her with much of a choice. Abel was a lot like Jax. What they wanted, they got.

"Hey babe," he breathed. Jax Teller dropped a quick kiss on Tara's forehead. She smiled up at him, but he immediately noticed that the smile didn't reach her eyes. He wanted to ask her what was wrong, but in a crowd like this one, he knew better. Instead, he placed Thomas on the bed next to Tara. Abel, noticing how tired Tara looked, crawled carefully on the bed. The boys flanked Tara on either side. Jax turned and faced Venus, and she grinned broadly back up at him.

"I think Miss Delylah wants her daddy," Venus whispered. Jax nodded and took Delylah from her. He walked over to Tara's bed and sat. Venus' heart swelled as she stared at them. Tig walked over to her and encircled her tiny waist.

"Aren't they beautiful?" Venus whispered. To her, this was their happy ending. Lord knew they deserved it. They were an absolute vision. Tara's thick brown hair was tied back, revealing an ivory face far too perfect for a woman that had just given birth. Thomas watched carefully as Tara turned Ophelia towards him, and Abel had already moved by Jax to view sweet little Delylah. It was a heartwarming scene, and even though Venus was elated for her friends, she also felt like an intruder.

"I think we'll be leaving," Venus said. Tara looked up and met her eyes. Venus didn't miss the gratitude that was there. She gripped Tig's hand. It was cold and clammy within her own. She glanced at Tig, who tried his best to hide his emotions, but she knew his soul was screaming for Dawn. So much had happened in the last few months, and it was easy for the memory of Tig's youngest daughter to get lost in the shuffle. Venus knew. The year anniversary of Dawn's horrific murder was fast approaching, and as much as Tig loved Jax, Venus knew that her beloved's heart was shattering. It was best for them all if they left.

"Congratulations," Tig murmured carefully. He moved towards Jax and hugged him awkwardly. He gave a bittersweet smile at Delylah as Venus said her goodbyes to Tara. The sound of Venus' heels echoed throughout the room as they left, as did Tig's thick heeled boots. It was as if their feet, like their hearts, were a perfect duet. Everything they did with one another seemed just right. Jax watched as they walked away, thinking how good Venus was for Tig. The door shut quietly behind them, and Jax and Tara were alone with their children for the first time.

"What's wrong, babe?" Jax asked. His blue eyes were etched with worry as she looked back at her husband. She couldn't speak. She knew she should have been happy; after all, she'd made it through birth. Her daughters, although small, were strong and healthy. Her sons were safe and beautiful, and she had her soulmate, alive and well, by her side. Joy should have been the only emotion she felt; instead, her heart ached with a jumble of emotions she didn't understand.

"I don't know," Tara sobbed. "I don't know what's wrong." Jax stood and placed Delylah in her bassinet. Without a word, he scooped Ophelia out of Tara's arms and placed her in the adjacent one. He reached deep into the boys' diaper bag and pulled out a small tub of crayons and a stack of construction paper. The boys quickly moved to the floor and began coloring. Quickly, Jax moved towards his wife and put a comforting arm around her. Tara continued to sob.

"Babe, you have to talk to me," Jax said carefully. "Tell me what's wrong." Tara took a deep breath to calm herself. Her big hazel eyes turned and locked with Jax's.

"Everything is hitting me at once," Tara cried. Jax tightly grasped her hand. "When Gemma died, I had to focus on finding her killer, and once that happened, I learned I was pregnant. Then the girls were in danger, and when I came home, there was Nero…and Izzy…and now, the girls are here, I don't know what's next. There's always something next."

Jax inhaled deeply. There was so much to truth to Tara's words, but there was also so much Jax didn't know. _You have all the secrets, Tara. You're the gatekeeper._ He thought back to that day, the day that set the last eight months into motion. If he closed his eyes, he was back in that hotel, savoring his last moments. Within seconds, he was cradling a bloody and bruised Tara in his arms. Those last nights in the cabin tore at his soul, and he almost wept with the thought of that ultrasound that told him he'd be a father of twin daughters.

He tried hard to forget that destructive homecoming, of Chuckie and of Unser, and of Izzy brains being splattered on his mother's floor. That morning, Jax had begun Unser, Chuckie, and Nero's funeral arrangements. They were just the next in a long line of corpses that haunted him. There wasn't a single night he didn't dream of JT, of Clay and Gemma, of Donna and Opie. The only difference between Jax and Tara were the secrets she still held. He had no clue how far they went, but he knew they were toxic as hell.

"There will _always _be something else," Tara stated through her tears. "As long as we stay here, there will always be another scheme, another murder. There will always be another threat."

"Tara, I…"

"For a moment, when I came into Gemma's house, and all of SAMCRO was there, I thought I could do it. I thought I could stay and allow you to be the outlaw you've always been."

"Babe…"

"I was almost on board," she stated. "Then I put bullet after bullet into Izzy. Just a few moments later, Nero Padilla, quite possibly the kindest man I've ever known, bled to death in my arms. Then all bets were off. I was done. I'm still done."

"Tara, I fully intend on leaving Charming," Jax emphatically stated. "I made that promise, and I intend to keep it. For the last few months, I've been setting things into motion, knowing this day would come. I've already named Chibs as President. Bobby will be VP. I've paved the way for the Niners and the Mayans to work with SAMCRO. We are actually closer to peace now than we've ever been. With Nero's death, I have to make decisions about Diosa, but that isn't the only thing standing in my way."

"_Dinna go in there!" _The unmistakable sound of Chibs' Scottish brogue echoed through the hospital. Jax gritted his teeth. He could hear Tara's voice before she uttered a word. _I told you so. _Before he could get up and see what was happening, Althea Jarry burst into the room. Bobby and Chibs followed closely behin. Jax felt Tara jump next to him. The commotion startled the boys, and they began to cry. The girls soon followed suit. Jax, infuriated by the spectacle, quickly stood. Fire blazed in his eyes, and his nostrils flared.

"What the hell is going on?" Jax said through gritted teeth. Tara could see that he was trying everything possible to control his temper.

"This bitch canna give ye the time ye need!" Chibs exploded. "She doesna gie a damn about yer family, as usual."

"Mr. Telford, I have no choice," the sheriff began. Chibs immediately interrupted.

"Ye hae a choice," Chibs vehemently stated.

"No, Mr. Telford, she doesn't." Jax gritted his teeth at the sound of another voice. His hand immediately went to his forehead. _Fuck my life_, he thought. Tyne Patterson entered the room. As usual, her attitude showed up before she did.

"What do you want, Patterson?" Jax asked. There was to greeting. Jax didn't even get up. The ever observant DA didn't miss that. She crossed her arms beneath her breasts as she glared at Jax.

'Why don't you ask your wife?" Patterson returned. Like Jax, she didn't bother with any preliminaries. Jax turned towards Tara, who was crying again. Fury flooded his veins; he had no issues with Tara; all of his issues were with the DA.

"What does Tara have to do with it?" Bobby questioned. He'd walked over to Delylah and Ophelia. Quietly, he began to calm the girls. Patterson glared in his direction. Chibs went to Thomas and Abel, kneeling by them. The crying ceased immediately.

"I think it's best if the children are not here for this," Patterson stated as she stared at Tara. Tara knew what Patterson wanted. _Juice's confession. _Her eyes fell to the phone in Patterson's hand. She pressed the call button.

"Can I help you?" the voice on the other end spoke. Tara asked that the twins go to the nursery. Within seconds, a nurse came to grab the girls. Chibs grabbed Thomas and held Abel's hand.

"You hungry, little man?" Chibs asked. Abel nodded. "How bout you go with Uncle Bobby and Uncle Chibs, and we'll get ye something ta eat?" Abel nodded once more. "Jackie Boy, we'll be in the cafeteria if ye need us." Chibs glared at Althea Jarry as he passed. Jarry smirked.

"What is this about, Patterson? Why do you feel the need to make my life a living hell?" Jax queried.

Tara's cheeks burned with anxiety. Jarry and Patterson stared at her. All she could see was Juice's face. Once again, the last few months reared their ugly heads, and there were too many questions. There was no order. There was complete chaos, and it raged on her heart and soul. _It's time. _Tara knew exactly why Patterson and Jarry were here. They wanted answers. They wanted an ending, and Tara knew this was the last chance. If things didn't go well right now, Jax would be in prison, and she'd be raising four kids alone. She eyed the cell phone again. It was the only thing that stood between her and leaving Charming. Just a few moments before, she was deep in despair, but the presence of Patterson snapped her inner soldier to attention. She had to save her family. She was the only one that could do it.

"You need to answer me," Jax demanded.

"Mr. Teller, you're awfully impatient for a man that's steps away from jail," Patterson arrogantly stated.

"That's what you came here for?" Jax asked. "To remind me of our deal?"

"No, Jax," Tara said quietly. "She's here to tell you the truth." Jax's eyes widened with his wife's words.

"The truth?" Jax's voice crackled slightly.

"Yes, Mr. Teller, the truth," Tyne Patterson stated firmly. "You remember what that is, right?" Jax didn't know how to answer that.

"What do you know about truth?" he countered. "You bend it to suit your needs, just like SAMCRO does."

"That may be true, Jackson," Patterson said. "But I do remember one thing about that truth that you have seemed to have forgotten."

"Yeah, and what's that?" Jax replied. He locked eyes with the older woman. Patterson's gaze didn't change or waver. Most people were terrified of Jax, but it was more than evident that Tyne Patterson wasn't afraid of Jax Teller. She sighed and gave an almost kindly smile. "What have I forgotten about the truth?"

"What you have forgotten, Mr. Teller, is that the truth, no matter how you bend it or break it, it is absolute. And maybe, just maybe, when you need it most, it will be able to set you free."


	21. Chapter 21

"I love platitudes and clichés, especially when they come from a District Attorney," Jax drawled. Tara blinked incredulously. She knew what Tyne Patterson was here for; he didn't. She wanted to scream at her husband to shut up, but she was far too shocked to bother. She folded her hands across her smaller, yet still swollen belly; her eyes widened as she watched the attorney pull herself upright. Patterson narrowed her obsidian eyes and smiled coldly. It was the smile Tara remembered from when she was trying to negotiate her freedom.

"There are no clichés and platitudes, Mr. Teller," Patterson stated. She held up the cell phone he'd given her before. Tara's eyebrows raised. "Does this look familiar, Tara?"

"It's my phone," Tara quietly answered. Thank God the DA couldn't see her heart pounding against her chest. Thank God Jax couldn't see the memories of Juice Ortiz's last moments hovering in her mind. Thank God she didn't have the strength to get up and walk out, even though that's exactly what she wanted to do. She didn't want to deal with this now, especially hours after her twin daughters' births.

"It is," Patterson responded. "I didn't understand why your husband gave it to me while we were at TM. I didn't understand why the hell a video from Juan Carlos Ortiz would be on it, either."

"Did you watch it?" Tara questioned. She watched Patterson glance at Althea Jarry, who nodded almost imperceptibly.

"Yes, yes, I did," the DA stated. "It was quite interesting, to say the least."

"What do you mean?" Jax asked. He'd moved from his confrontational standoff with Patterson to Tara's side. He rested a gentle hand on her shoulder, and he was shocked to find her trembling. Tara felt his blue eyes look through her, but for once, she didn't return his gaze. He sat by her on the bed and tangled his fingers with hers. Tara stared straight ahead, her eyes fixed on that phone.

"Juice Ortiz is dead, as you well know," Tyne began. It was as if the older woman was beginning a storybook, not an explanation. The woman was regal and beautiful, and if they'd been on the same team, Jax might have been friends. As much as he hated to admit it, he did like her. He did respect her, but he also knew that she could turn into a fierce and formidable enemy. He'd seen it firsthand, and judging from his wife's trembling form, Tara must've known that truth as well.

"I identified the body," Jax reminded her. She nodded. "I remember."

"Well, do you know who he spent his last moments with?" The question was half mocking. Jax stared ahead. Defiance blazed from his eyes as he opened his mouth to speak.

"Me," Tara answered. "He spent them with me." Jax turned and looked at her. This time, she met his gaze. The familiar tight lipped confusion registered across the planes of his face. Tears welled in Tara's eyes as she stared back at him. "I'm sorry Jax."

"You really don't have it in you to keep things from him, do you?" Althea Jarry asked. Part of her was incredulous, the other part of her was envious. _I wonder if I'll ever have a love like that. _She thought of the Scot that made her blood boil. She knew she wanted him, but having him was an entirely different matter. _I want to have a love like that._ _Everyone wants a love like that._

"Why are you here?" Jax's voice was venomous as he addressed the sheriff. "Are you part of this?"

"She's here because I asked her to be, Mr. Teller," Patterson stated firmly, causing Jax to shut up. Gritting his teeth, he ignored both Patterson and Jarry, and he turned towards Tara again.

"What happened darlin'?" It was amazing how fast he could change. As he stared at his beautiful wife, he was shocked by difference in his soul. Flashbacks to their kitchen played in his mind: _Tara was on the floor, covered in blood. Gemma was dead. Roosevelt was dead. _Everything changed in that moment, and the changes hadn't stopped since. There was very little Tara Knowles Teller could do to make Jax unhappy. At this point, he didn't care what happened with Juice; as long as Tara and his kids were okay, he could weather any storm.

"The night I collapsed, I got a phone call. It was Margaret. Juice was in CCU. He'd overdosed, but he was conscious. He wanted to talk to me. Alone."

Jax watched as Tyne stared at his wife, content with letting her tell the story. Her sharp eyes missed nothing. Tara still trembled next to him. He gingerly wrapped an arm around her shoulders. Instinctively, she leaned into him. It was a strange dance that had begun when they were sixteen. He held; she leaned; they became one. Grateful, Tara smiled carefully.

"Go on babe," Jax coached. Tara nodded and continued.

"Juice was going to die. He knew it. I think he was surprised that he survived the overdose at all. He'd signed a DNR."

"DNR?" Jax asked.

"A Do Not Resuscitate Order. Basically, if he coded, he didn't want medical intervention. He said he didn't want to live anymore. Not without his club." Tara watched as Jax's jaw clenched and his lips tightened. She pretended that her husband's sharp intake of breath didn't break her heart. "He'd asked me there so he could confess."

"Confess what?"

"He'd come by the house the night of Gemma's murder," Tara whispered. "He saw me on the floor. I heard him speak to me Jax."

"But he didn't kill her," Jax stated. It was almost as if Jax forgot Patterson and Jarry were in the room. "He didn't touch you. You and I both know that." Tara nodded.

"I know. But I didn't remember anything then, Jax. I was still struggling—and then, he asked me to grab my phone. Margaret was with us. He asked her to grab her phone too."

"There's another recording, Tara?" Patterson spoke up. Both Jax and Tara turned their eyes toward her. Tara nodded again.

"Yes. Margaret Murphy recorded Juice's confession on her phone as well."

"That was very smart of him," the DA mused. "Have an unaffiliated person with the same recording. Give it credence. Very smart, Ortiz." Tara and Jax turned back to one another. It no longer mattered that the District Attorney and the Sheriff were in the room. Tara had to purge her soul of everything—the last forty-eight hours had been full of confessions, and Juice was the only confession she had left. Once she was done with the story, she was free. The words began to tumble from her mouth at a crazed velocity.

"Juice's vitals began tanking," Tara continued. "And he began talking. And we began recording."

"I have it here," Patterson interjected. She walked across the room and handed the phone Jax. Tara saw Juice's face, and a torrent of memories flowed through her. His voice rang in her ears.

"_My name is Juan Carlos Ortiz. Yesterday, I injected my body with a lethal dose of OxyContin. I, as you can see, did not die, but it was only a short reprieve. I want to die. I have turned on my club, and I deserve this punishment." _Jax looked at Tara, his eyes confused. She turned her eyes back to her phone. "_You see, Jackson Teller wants me dead. I went against the club. For the last year, I have been running guns for the Byz Lats behind Teller's back. I am the one who obtained the KG-9s, and I am the one who put them in the hands of Arcadio Nerona. His girlfriend Darvany is the mother of the boy that shot the school up." _

Jax exhaled jaggedly, and a harsh lump of reality formed in his throat. He knew Juice had no link the KG-9s. Jax knew he was the only link between the club and the guns. Juice knew it too, and he was using his last breath to save Jax. Jax, who would've killed him, had there been the chance. The realization of the monster he was shook him to his core. The Jackson Teller of just a few months ago was a completely different man than he was now. Juice's voice echoed within the confines of the hospital room, haunting Jax's soul.

"_SAMCRO had no idea what I was doing. I told no one of my plans. I didn't want Jax as my president. Without Clay, I chose other options. Jackson learned of what I was doing after Arcadio and Darvany took off, and he made no secret of his hatred for me. I fled to Stockton, where I checked into a motel and didn't know what the fuck to do with myself. I knew Jax would turn me in—or kill me. I just beat him to it. Jackson—" _Jax's eyes were overflowing with tears as Juice's eyes bore stared blankly into the camera. _"Jackson, I'm sorry for betraying you. Tell Chibs I love him."_

Tara thought the recording would end there. She didn't know that Margaret recorded her rushing to Juice's side. It seemed like a lifetime ago, but as she relived it all, in bold, vibrant reality, Tara wept openly. Juice was so misunderstood. He shouldn't have died. He should have been there, still breathing.

"_Just hold my hand, Tara. I don't want to die alone." _

"Turn it off, Patterson," Jax said quietly. Patterson let the video continue. He saw Margaret lay the phone down, but he could hear the sounds of Juice's last moments.

"_Time of death, 12:27 am." _

"Turn it off!" Jax exploded. Tara jumped, as did Jarry. Patterson, however, stood still as a stone. Carefully, Tara grabbed the phone and hit the stop button. The noise stopped. Juice's voice stopped. Everything was still. Jax's chest heaved, even though he tried to be quiet, he just couldn't hold it in. Sobs wracked his body, and he had no choice in the matter; he just let them come. In front of Tara, in front of Tyne Patterson and Althea Jarry, Jax Teller wept openly. He didn't care. Nothing mattered at that moment.

_Guilt. _It was a word Jax always wrestled with, but usually, he won the battle. In the world of SAMCRO, there was no time to feel guilt. Guilt dulled the senses and eroded his edge. It was something pushed down and put away, saved for a time when it mattered. It mattered now. Suddenly, all the death and carnage and murder of the last few months fell at his feet, and he couldn't stop crying.

"I'm sorry, Juice…" he murmured. Tara embraced him tightly, and he buried his head the crook of her shoulder.

"Mr. Teller," Patterson's stringent tone shattered Jax's sadness, and he swallowed his tears. He felt like a kid being reprimanded by his mother as he stared back at her. Jax Teller could officially say he'd hit his rock bottom. Patterson's eyes drank him in as he humbly stared at the older woman. It was strange how Juice's confession had changed the dynamic of the room. It no longer mattered to Jax how he looked. He was broken.

"It appears as though Juice has given you a _Get Out of Jail Free Card_," Patterson softly stated. "As much as I hate to say it, while Mr. Ortiz's dying words aren't necessarily legally bulletproof, they would definitely sway a jury. They blow any case I had for the school shooting out of the water."

Tara's eyes narrowed as her hazel eyes locked with Patterson's dark ones. "What are you trying to say?" she asked.

"Isn't it obvious?" Patterson returned with brilliant, white smile.

"No, actually it isn't," Tara retaliated. "Every single time you have given my family something, you try like hell to take it away. You want my husband's head on a silver platter, and you won't stop until you get it. Pardon me if I see this _Get Out of Jail Free Card _as a fucking carrot on a string; you're giving it and taking it away."

Patterson's smile faded. She gazed at Tara and Jax, impressed by the lioness that had emerged from Jax Teller's wife. For so long, she'd been a shadow of the intelligent, tough, stunning woman she was. She'd been in SAMCRO's shadow, and now, two sons, two daughters, and countless murders later, she was the strongest one. Gemma Teller-Morrow would have been amazed to see remnants of her soul that remained within her daughter-in-law.

"There is nothing pinning the school shooting to you," Patterson stated with a calm that infuriated Tara. For once, Tara would like to see the good DA lose her fucking shit. The fact that she stayed cool, even in the midst of all this chaos, was annoying as hell. "Arcadio and Darvany have all but disappeared. Juice confessed to running the guns. As far as that is concerned, you're free."

Jax was still wrapped in Tara's embrace. His wife didn't move. He knew what she was doing: she was waiting for the other shoe to drop, as it always did. Patterson didn't disappoint.

"The bullets from Izzy's gun match the bullets in Nero Padilla's body, as do the bullets found in Chuckie and Unser. You have air tight alibis for both murders. Again, you're free."

Tara listened as Patterson ticked off the list of terror that had plagued her life for months. It was amazing what shock and fear could do to a person; there were major details Tara had forgotten about the last few months.

"It is obvious now, given what has transpired over the last few weeks, that Izzy killed Wendy in that disaster of a trailer fire. There is only one loose end that doesn't make sense: Gemma Teller-Morrow's murder. Who killed her?"

Tara and Jax stared at one another, unsure of what to say. Patterson interrupted the slight pause.

"You know, don't you?" the attorney questioned. Tara nodded.

"It was Wendy," Tara whispered. "She, Nero, and Unser had stopped in. They all thought I was dead; hell, I thought I was too. Gemma tried to run, but she wasn't fast enough. Wendy shot her."

"How convenient," Patterson's voice dripped with sarcasm. "All the other witnesses, all but you, Tara, are dead. A good DA would see that as a pattern, as motive, and as means."

"Are you saying you think I killed everyone around me?" Tara shrieked. Red tinged fury streaked her throat and chest. If it didn't hurt so much to move, she would have gotten in Patterson's face.

"I don't believe it for a second," Patterson stated. "But I am saying that it looks strange."

"But I—" Tara began, but Patterson stopped her.

"Oh, but Dr. Teller, like your husband, you have air tight alibis. You were sequestered in a hospital when Wendy, Unser, and Chuckie were murdered. You were physically unable to stand before, during, and after Gemma was murdered. There was no way you could have killed her. Izzy was self-defense."

"So you're saying we're free?" Jax finally spoke. "There is nothing keeping us here?"

"Unfortunately, that's exactly what I am saying," the DA returned. "You are free, Mr. Teller."

A beautiful smile burst onto Jax's face as the revelation dawned on him. _ We're free. We can leave Charming. We can start over. Oh. My. God. We can start over. _

"I'll have all charges dropped, Jax." It was the first time she'd not called him Mr. Teller. It was a strange, foreign. "I suggest you leave while you can."

With that, the DA pivoted on her heel and walked out of the small room. Jarry was hot on her heels. It was only Jax and Tara in the room now, and they simply stared at one another, shell-shocked.

"I can't fucking believe it," Jax whispered. "We're free."

"I can't either," Tara replied. "It's surreal." Once more she leaned into him, and once more, he laced his fingers in hers. "Just like that, fucking free."

_This is really happening. _ He'd promised Tara he'd break free. His fingers brushed the _President_ patch on his kutte, and he felt like he was that much closer to breathing, that much closer to freedom. Tears welled up in his eyes again, but this time, he forced them back.

The day Jax Teller had lived and breathed for was becoming a reality. It was an amazing feeling. He was happy. The life he'd dreamt of with Tara was so close; life without SAMCRO was now something he welcomed. As he looked at his wife, he realized Tara and the kids were all that mattered now. It was definitely a thought he could get used to.

I


	22. Chapter 22

The President patch had been ripped away from Jax's kutte. It was strange to see it there, on the Church table. TM had become almost whole in the two months since Ophelia and Delylah's birth. It had taken that long for Jax to get everything in order. During that time, Teller Morrow had risen from the ashes the Irish left behind, and just one week since the doors reopened, Jax Teller was preparing for his new transition.

"I canna believe this is happenin," Chibs' gravelly voice warbled. His dark eyes were teary as he stared at Jax, who stood quietly at the head of the table. It looked exactly like the one that he'd sat at millions of times before, first as a little boy, then as a Prospect, then a VP, and eventually President. Chibs never thought he'd see the day that Jax Teller didn't sit at the helm. Now, the day had arrived, and even though SAMCRO knew it was coming, no one, not even Jax himself, was prepared for it.

"I don't know if we can do this without you, Jackson," Bobby whispered. Jax inhaled deeply as he stared at the old man, who was aging exponentially before his eyes. When the biker's lips began to quiver, Jax had to look away, and he snapped his eyes shut. It hurt too much to look at Bobby. Bobby had been a part of his life since he was born, and Jax thought that he'd be part of Abel and Thomas' lives, as well as his girls'. To think of a life without him was unbearable, but it had to be a clean break. No contact. No letters. No texts or calls. Nothing at all. It was a bitter pill to swallow, but Jax tried to deal with the reality to the best of his ability.

Silently, Jax sat at the head of the table one last time. His pale blue eyes touched on each soul that sat before him.

_Chibs. _The rogue Scot, the tongue-in-cheek, brutal and gentle biker. The heart of a soldier, the soul of a poet. There was nothing more magical that the half-crazy glint in his eyes. The bond that lingered between them was not of President and Vice President; it was a blood bond, one of brothers. _Brothers don't leave one another,_ Jax's inner spirit screamed. _They stand by one another. Protect one another. _Jax fought back tears as one last thought cried out in his skull: _Who will protect me when he's gone? Who will protect him?_

_Bobby. _Bobby Elvis. Jax smiled at the thought of the skin tight white jumpsuits. The strange but spot-on warble of Bobby's rendition of _Love Me Tender_ would light Jax's heart for the rest of his days, as would the spark of fierce intelligence in his stare. He would miss the gigantic bear hugs too, even though he'd never admit it. Bobby's arms were the ones that clutched Jax's grief-stricken body through the deaths of Tommy, John, Opie, Gemma, and most recently, Unser, Chuckie, and Nero. SAMCRO had laid them all to rest in the weeks that had followed the twins' births. Jax would miss Bobby more than even Bobby knew.

_Tig. _Ice blue eyes, eyes that used to look at Jax with contempt, now stared back at him with unyielding sorrow. Tears flowed freely from them, and Jax looked on admiringly. Of all the men, Tig was the most open with his feelings. He was never scared to cry, nor was he scared to be wrong. Tig Trager loved and hated with such enormity and with his entire heart and soul. Jax had once judged him for it, but now, a small part of him wished he could be that free.

_Happy. _The maniacal sparkle in his eyes didn't linger on his lips, as it normally did. Today, there was nothing in the ebony, just pools of sadness and a tinge of agony. The most loyal of all soldiers, Happy was supposed to be the one that scared Delylah and Ophelia's dates away. He was supposed to be the one that taught the boys how to fight. Now, that was over. It would never happen.

_Rat_. It was strange to think of it, but Rat felt like Abel and Thomas to Jax. He'd watched him Prospect and grow into a solid member of the crew. He knew of the romance brewing between Brooke and Rat, and while part of him didn't think it wise, the other part of him welcomed their union. She would be good for him. It would calm the manic, forgetful energy in his soul. It would settle him, and it was a damned shame Jax wouldn't get to see it.

_Quinn._ Jax's only regret with the massive, thick muscled man at the end of the table was that he didn't know him like he knew the others. He knew Quinn well enough to know that he was an asset to the rest of the brothers at the table. He'd chosen well when he'd asked Quinn to come aboard. He trusted that Quinn would raise in the ranks easily. He was more at ease knowing that Quinn was there, and it was one of few good feelings that held him now.

Jax cleared his throat as his eyes rested on the President patch. It hadn't been easy, choosing his successor. It was something he thought he'd never have to do. Presidents were chosen after the last one died. That's how it was supposed to work; he wasn't supposed to willingly hand over the patch, just like he wasn't supposed to willingly give up on SAMCRO. He closed his eyes once more, and he wondered if he had the strength to do it.

A peel of laughter pierced the huge oak doors of Church. A stunning smile erupted not just on Jax's face, but Chibs and Bobby's too. _That would be Delylah, _Jax thought as he opened his eyes. His sweet girl had just figured out how to coo and how to giggle. It was one of the most beautiful and powerful sounds Jax had ever heard. _She's the reason I am walking away. She and Opie and Thomas and Abel and Tara. Five of the best reasons in the world to walk away from this. _He loved SAMCRO, but he loved his wife and kids more. He reached out and clutched the President patch one more time. It was as if Jax was pulling strength from it.

"I gave a lot of thought to who should have this patch," Jax began. "I thought about every angle, every possible team. You know that it is my hope that you will all remain as loyal to one another as you have been to me," Jax's voice caught for a moment, but he recovered. "I couldn't ask for a better band of brothers. You realize that is what you are to me, right?" All the men nodded. "You are the flesh and blood that has left me. You're the anchor to my crazed mind. You, just like my wife and my kids, have been my driving force this entire time."

"You're an amazing leader, Jackie boy," Chibs said. "We couldna asked for a betta President." The word _President_ was a choked sob. Jax thought he'd lose his composure, but in that moment, as Chibs began falling apart, Bobby reached out and steadied his old friend. Jax gripped the table and continued, knowing that if he stopped now, he'd change his mind.

"And you will be just as amazing as I was, if not more so," Jax choked. "I've talked to Bobby. He agrees. Filip Telford, you _are _the future of SAMCRO. You will lead this group with more heart and soul than I ever could. You're not torn like I am; the club comes first for you. It always has."

Chibs heartbroken eyes darted to Bobby. When Bobby nodded, Chibs opened his mouth to speak, but no words came. Incredulous and speechless, Chibs sat in motionless, tearful quiet.

"So Bobby will be the VP?" Rat's voice broke the strange silence.

"No," Bobby stated firmly. "My position will remain the same. I'm getting too old for this shit. I'm happy to sit my ass here just as much as I sit my ass on my bike. I'm good. There will be a new VP."

With Bobby's words, Chibs' eyebrows raised. "And who will that be?"

"Tig," Jax answered. His eyes locked with Tig's as shock registered on the older man's face.

"Jax, no. I don't—" Tig's voice broke. "I don't deserve—I mean, Opie—Donna. I—I'm not—"

"You are good enough for this Tig," Jax stated. "Stop that shit. You fucked up, but you've also lost just as much as any of us. When we lost Opie, you lost Opie, but when you lost Dawn—_you_ lost her. Not us. The loss was yours and yours alone. I can't even begin to imagine what hell you go through every single day. I would have fucked my entire life had it been one of my girls. You are not the man you were five years ago—neither am I." The last words were said with a tight, agonized smile.

"You will inherit the problems. You will make the solutions. TM is brand new, and business has never been better. Galen O'Shay is dead. Connor Malone has brokered the gun deal with August Marks, and that looks promising. Chibs will handle that from here on out, and Bobby knows what needs to be done behind the scenes to make that happen. Tig and Happy will be the muscle."

"It's perfect," Rat said, almost enthusiastically. The table grew silent.

"No, perfect would be Jax being here, Tara and the kids being safe, and everything being okay," Tig breathed.

"But we're not fucking bankers," Bobby softly interjected. "We're bikers. That is the life we choose every time we run guns or drugs. Every innocent that has died leaves blood on our hands, and every bastard that deserves a bullet in their skull doesn't always get it. We aren't perfect; in fact, we're really fucked up. That's why Jax has to go, and that's why we stay. We're too far gone now. He's the one that has a chance. And we need to let that happen."

As Bobby's words died on the crowd, Chibs stood and unceremoniously pulled a switchblade from his pocket. Shrugging off his kutte, he popped the knife open and carefully cut the Vice President patch from the leather. It dangled from his fingers as he walked over to Tig, who now stood. Chibs grabbed Tig's open hand and stared into his eyes. He placed the patch in the center of Tig's palm. Bobby stood and grabbed Jax's patch, and without hesitation, he stalked over to Chibs and did the same.

"My club," Jax said. "My friends. My family. My brothers." The last words broke the now uncrowned King of SAMCRO. As he walked over to the men that had built him, Jackson Teller fell apart. Slowly and deliberately, he hugged each brother, beginning with Quinn. Next came Rat. Teller embraced Happy quickly and broke apart just as fast. Happy was uncomfortable with emotion, and for once, every feeling the stoic soldier had was written on his face.

Bobby was next. Tears streaked the old man's face and fell into his beard. Jax held tight to him. After all, he was really the last link Jax had to JT, and he'd never see it again. When Jax finally got the courage to break the embrace, he fell right into Tig's emotional arms.

"I can't believe it brother," he murmured. "I just can't believe it." Jax couldn't believe it either, especially when he turned to face Chibs.

"Jackie Boy," Chibs' voice trembled. The two grown men fell into a hug so tight, nothing could break it. "I love ye, Brother." They clung to each other for a moment, and before they pulled away, Chibs whispered in Jax's ear.

"Yer secret will die with me," Chibs promised. As Jax pulled away and stared at Chibs, an almost invisible nod was shared between them. It was then that Chibs pulled his kutte back on, and Jax divested himself of his. Carefully, he lay the kutte on the table. Dressed in simple flannel and jeans, Jax Teller had, in one swift motion, become a civilian. Silently, he walked to the door and opened it. It was hard to believe that this was the last time he would walk through the Church doors. As he turned to the common area, he saw the faces he would miss.

Part of TM's new construction included a memorial wall. Jax allowed his eyes to trace the faces that still haunted him. _Opie and Donna's wedding day. _They looked so young, so full of promise. _Gemma. _She stood, all of eighteen or nineteen, in stark black and white. Defiantly staring into the camera, she looked more vulnerable than badass. _JT. _The mugshot made Jax sad. There was so much more to the man than that, more than even he knew. _Unser. _An official shot of him in uniform. Jax had forgotten what a strong leader he'd been. The last photo was a strange one. _Nero. Chuckie. Gemma. _They stood outside the doors of the old TM. The photo had been snapped just days before Gemma's murder. It was odd to see the three of them in the frame, but it warmed Jax's soul to think of them together.

Jax was so ensconced in memories, the feeling of Tara's arms wrapping around him startled him. Her chest pressed against his back, and despite the sadness he felt, Jax felt a mix of desire, love, and comfort as he leaned into her. Her arms made the pain worth. They felt more like home than anything else he'd ever felt.

"You ready, baby?" he asked as he turned to face her. He saw her swollen, tearstained face, and his heart broke all over again. "You don't want to leave either, do you?" Tara shook her head in the negative.

"I don't," she whispered. "But we have no choice now. There's no going back. It's all been set into motion. We have to go." Jax nodded. He draped a protective arm over her shoulders as they walked out the door.

"Everything is all ready for you," Venus drawled shakily. She and Lyla had busied themselves by getting the children in Tara's new minivan. The girls were snuggled in the middle seats, and the boys sat together in the back.

"Thank you Venus, Lyla," Tara cried. The women embraced once more. This time it was quick. "Thank you for everything. We love you so much."

"We love you too," Lyla sobbed. Chibs walked to her as Tig walked to Venus. Together, they guided the women inside. Bobby and the others followed. Only Happy remained in the parking lot. Jax and Tara got into the van. Tara clutched Jax's hand tightly. Neither one of them looked back as they pulled out of the TM parking lot. As Happy watched the taillights fade into the distance, he allowed one tear to fall. Jax and Tara were gone.

"Are you sure about this, babe?" Tara asked. Jax silently nodded. As they drove through the streets of Charming, Tara tried to etch every street and stoplight into her memory. They were never coming back. That was part of the deal. Her heart broke as they passed the street where their old house was. Gemma's house was just around the corner. Both would be sold, and the profits shuffled into the appropriate accounts as needed. Her eyes closed. She couldn't imagine someone else walking the floors or cooking in the kitchen. There was no way another mama could put her babies to sleep there. It was still _her _house, right?

The van slowed, and Tara opened her eyes. They were just outside of the city limits when the unmarked car pulled out ahead of them. _Just a couple more miles. _Tara could make out the massive, ancient boulder ahead of her. She knew it like she knew Delylah's giggle, like she knew Ophelia's sweet grin. The road was as familiar as the smell of Thomas' sweet head, as a part of her as Abel's still syncopated pulse.

Another unmarked car awaited them. As Jax pulled the van to a slow, deliberate stop, the dust settled. She quickly stepped out from the van and began readying the girls. Abel stared at her, his bright blue eyes inquisitive.

"Is this what you were talkin bout Mama?" he asked sleepily. It had been a long week of packing and worrying and waiting. Abel was intuitive; he felt Tara's fear, and he hadn't left her side. "Is this the new story we're writing?"

"Yep," Tara said with a relieved smile. "See that lady over there? That's our fairy godmother." Abel looked sleepily at her, but excitement registered in his eyes. He unbuckled his seat belt and stood.

"What's her name?" Abel asked.

"Tyne Patterson," Tara returned.

"Here, Tommy," he said as he unhooked his little brother's carseat. Jax had opened the other door and grabbed Ophelia. Tara had Delylah. Thomas jumped out by Tara, and Abel left with Jax.

_JT. 11-13-93. _The spray paint had faded, just as the sun was fading before them.

"Jax. Tara," Tyne Patterson's voice rang out in the cooling desert dusk. "I'm glad you followed through."

"We didn't have a choice," Jax returned sourly.

"Of course you did," Patterson logically returned. "You could have stayed, and eventually you would have been arrested or killed—or both. I'm glad you came to me. I believe Witness Protection will be a good fit for you—and it'll keep the Irish Kings and August Marks away. By tomorrow, you will be in another place—far, far from Charming. You'll have a new identity, as will your children. You'll have a new life. And we will protect you. No one will touch you or your children ever again."

Tara breathed a sigh of relief. The prospect of changing her entire identity was a daunting one, but both she and Jax realized that no matter how far they ran from Charming, Charming would have a way of finding them. The Irish were still pissed at Jax, as was Marks, and they were legitimate and true dangers. That's why they approached Patterson. In exchange for information, Tara and Jax could protect their family.

"Did you get what you needed from me?" Jax asked Patterson. She nodded. "And the Sons will stay clear? No charges? No penalties?"

"It is clearly outlined in our deal. No harm will come to your club. That was our agreement. You give me Marks, and I shelter your club. Althea Jarry is aware of the arrangement. She will ensure no harm comes to the Sons. I promise you, Jackson: the Sons will be able to protect Charming again, just like they did when your father was alive. Soon, Marks will be gone, the Irish will be happy with SAMCRO, and you will be long gone too."

Jax breathed a sigh of relief. Tara watched as Patterson handed their new identities to him by way of passports, driver's licenses, and birth certificates. The arrangements had been made just after Tara had come home with the girls. They'd had a few weeks to acclimate themselves to their new identities. It was the strangest thing Tara had ever experienced, but it was a necessary evil.

"I will personally escort you out past Norco. There, the federal officers will take over, and they will escort you to your new destination. You will be protected as your family gets accustomed to their new life. You'll be amazed at how fast it'll become second nature to you. After that, they'll remain in your life to a degree, but you won't really know they're there."

"And what will happen to our old identities?" Tara asked. She knew that Jax had been briefed, but precious little had been told to her. Patterson smiled kindly at her.

"Jax and Tara Teller, along with their daughters, Delylah and Ophelia, as well as sons Thomas and Abel, will parish in an ill-fated car crash just over the Canadian border." Tara nodded. "I know the club knows you plan on leaving for good, but as far as the outside world is concerned, you're headed to Canada for a much needed family vacation." It was Jax's turn to nod.

"They obviously knew I was leaving," Jax stated. "But they don't know about you. I told them Tara accepted a job in Vancouver, and I was following. I told them we'd cut all ties."

"After your 'death', we will notify Trinity and Maureen Ashby of your deaths, since Trinity is your sister."

"Then the story will go to the Irish Kings, then to SAMCRO," Jax finished. "You left no detail unchecked."

"I can't afford to, Jax," Patterson said. "I can't let you die. As much as I came after you, it was only because I knew you could be better than this life. I'm thankful that you realized it too."

"This life has sustained me though almost forty years on this planet," Jax retorted. Patterson smiled sadly.

"You remind me a lot of my own son," she said sadly. "Unfortunately, he's not here to argue with me anymore." Jax's eyes widened at the revelation. "I couldn't help him, but I can help you." She reached out and grabbed Jax's hand. Tara watched, stunned, as he allowed it.

"Jackson," Patterson shakily whispered. "I am not immune to your charms. Behind this bad boy biker façade, I see a wonderful, caring, intelligent man. A man that wants to do right by his beautiful wife and children. I saw it the minute you turned yourself in to save Tara. And in the months that have passed, I have seen it time and time again. I am amazed that you are just now seeing it in yourself."

"Look, I am scared to death," Jax admitted candidly. Again, Tara was shocked. "I am scared this is the wrong choice. I am scared that you're going to fuck my club over the minute I leave Charming."

"Jackson—"

"No, let me finish. That's a chance I'll have to take." He gripped Tara's hand. "If anything happened to this woman, or these kids, I am as good as dead anyway." Tara's chest heaved at the emotion coming from her husband. She knew it was true, but to hear the declaration of their place in his life took her breath away.

"I am a woman of my word," Patterson declared. "I will protect your club, no matter what. Even if it means my own job, Jackson. You have my word."

They stared each other down for a moment, and Jax finally nodded.

"Let's go then," he demanded, and with that, Tyne Patterson stepped aside. She watched as the Tellers disappeared in the special van she'd provided them. She watched as Jax cast one last glance at the boulder that bore JT's death date. As the van pulled away, she saw Jax look straight ahead. Peace flooded her as the van disappeared beyond the horizon.

By week's end, Tara Knowles-Teller's van was found in a blackened, barely recognizable heap just beyond the Canadian border. In Ireland, Trinity Ashby listened as Canadian authorities delivered news of the deaths of Jackson, Tara, Abel, Thomas, Delylah, and Ophelia Teller.

"I'm sorry Miss Ashby," the officer stated. "The victims inside were—burned—beyond recognition. We've identified Jackson and Tara Teller by dental records. They're both in the American database, as they've both been arrested." Trinity Ashby sank to the floor and screamed. She was the only Teller left.

Within hours, Chibs Telford was awakened by a late night phone call.

"Who is it?" the naked woman at his side jealously questioned. Chibs groped at his nightstand and grabbed his burner phone. Very few people had the number.

"Get the fuck outta here," he gruffly ordered. The girl sat up, confused. "Now!" The last word was barked when she didn't listen fast enough.

"Yeah," he answered groggily.

"Filip?" a familiar Irish brogue pushed into his ears. "It's Maureen Ashby."

"Maureen? What are ye doin callin me?"

"I'm afraid Trinity got a call-" Chibs didn't listen to the rest. He knew. Jax told him this would happen. He closed his eyes and let Maureen tearfully explain, interjecting the occasional _yeah _and _uh-huh_ and _Jesus Christ_ into the conversation.

Jax couldn't leave and not tell Chibs. It had been hell to explain his reasons, but once Chibs knew SAMCRO would be safe, he accepted his old friend's choice.

"Are ye sure, Jax?" he'd asked. Everything was done. The plan had been set into motion, and it was a matter of days before they left.

"I have never been more sure of anything in my life," Jax responded. "I can't let Abel and Thomas in this life. I can't let Opie and Delylah have this as an example. The Kings are still pissed, even if they lie and say they aren't. Eventually, they'll come after me, or Tara, or the kids—and if doesn't, then Marks will. I've absolved the club. I've done my job. Now let me go."

It was the hardest thing Filip "Chibs" Telford had ever done, but he did as Jax asked. Now, as Maureen sobbed into the phone, he knew his dear friend was okay.

"Maureen, I hae to tell the others," he murmured. She apologized and quickly got off the phone.

"If ye need me, Chibs—"

"I know," Chibs whispered back. "I know. G'night, Mo."

"G'night."

Quickly, Chibs stood and dressed. As he pushed his arms through his kutte, he caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror. He'd aged decades in the week since Jax left, and he had no doubt it would only worsen as life without his brother continued. He swallowed hard. He closed his eyes for a moment. In a matter of minutes, life would be in upheaval. He'd have to face his club and lie—he'd have to tell them Jax and his family were dead, when in truth, they were very much alive. It would be the hardest secret he'd ever held, but he'd promised Jax as they parted.

Chibs opened his eyes. He glared at himself in the mirror, his eyes resting on the President patch.

The reality of it all sank slowly sank in. "I meant it," he stated to his reflection. "Yer secret will die with me." He inhaled deeply. As he opened the door, he ran his fingers across the patch once more.

Without another word, Chibs Telford stepped out of his room, shutting the door not only to his room, but to the memories that threatened to bury him alive.

"I love ye, Jackie Boy," he whispered into the silence. "If I canna do it, then I'll trust God enough to. May he look after ye and yer family's eternal souls. Until we meet again. I love ye, Brother."

In another world, a strange place where Jax was learning his new, federally furnished name, Jax Teller sat next to his wife. Their house was large and beautiful. His daughters napped contentedly in their twin bassinets, and the boys played quietly in their newly designated playroom. They'd already explored the house that would be their new home, and exhausted, Jax and Tara leaned against one another.

"I still can't believe it," he said to Tara. "I still can't get used to the idea that we're free."

"I can't either," she replied. She rested her head on his shoulder. It never ceased to amaze her how well they fit together, in every single way possible. As she listened to the boys on the baby monitor and watched the girls sleep, she knew life couldn't get any better. "We made it, babe. Together."

Jax tipped her face up and gently kissed her lips. Familiar desire rose within her, but she knew it would have to wait until the kids were tucked in. Still, she gave in to his mouth, letting it gently devour hers.

"God, Tara, I love you," he said. Her heart almost burst with the words. She'd loved him since was sixteen, but the words never got old. She could hear them over and over again and never get tired of them. It was then she realized that she would hear those words, over and over again, today and for the rest of her life.

"I love you too, Jax," she replied as she pulled him against her. His head nestled against her shoulder. She loved how they fit together. "I love you today. I love you tomorrow. I'll love you always." Jax reveled in the word. He kissed her once again, as if to cement the words. He loved the woman in his arms, and as she returned his kiss, he realized how lucky he was to have her.

_Always. _


End file.
